Leave Me Breathless
by anxioussquirrel
Summary: Part 3 of my 'Breathe' trilogy; this story chronicles Kurt and Blaine's slow, careful road to intimacy.
1. New York? New York!

**A/N:** _This is a threequel, so obviously I'd recommend reading _With You, I Can Breathe_ and _Learning To Breathe Again_ first. In short – between Blaine being a sexual assault survivor and Kurt's baby penguin tendencies, physical aspects of being together are far from easy. The process of getting there, conquering each small step, growing together takes months and years – and that's what this story is about. It's about closeness and intimacy and yes, sex, but mostly about feelings – with a bit of angst, some shameless fluff and many loving, sexy scenes._

_For the first time ever I'm getting a little wild and posting a story that isn't finished yet. Half of it is done and I'm working on the rest in every free moment, so it should be ready in about 2 more weeks, at the latest. Meanwhile, I'll be posting three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays._

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><p><strong>1. NEW YORK? NEW YORK!<strong>

"Son, come in for a moment."

Blaine froze by the door to his father's office. Usually being summoned there meant trouble. It was Carl Anderson's throne room, from which he ruled, commanded and punished. But with the recent changes in his parents' attitude, and especially since the barbecue with the Hummels a week ago, Blaine had learned that there was in fact more than one facet to his father's personality. So he felt more curious than reluctant now, as he entered the sparsely decorated room.

"Sit. I want to talk to you about New York."

"Okay. What about New York?" Blaine smiled as he settled into a leather chair in front of the huge mahogany desk. The trip would start in six days and he could barely contain his excitement. A week in New York with Kurt. It was going to be _amazing_!

"We had some last minute participants sign up for the conference. Which means…"

Blaine's face crumpled.

"We're not going, are we?" He knew it had been too good to be true. How silly of him to hope and plan.

His father frowned.

"What are you talking about? Of course you are going. I promised you this trip and I'm not one to go back on a promise, am I? Actually, I turned down several people to save you those last two places." Blaine sighed with relief. "No, it just means that we'll have to place you two in one room and I want to know if it's a good idea. It's a double, of course, but still. Maybe we should give the room to Kurt and have you sleep in ours? It would require some adjustments in accommodation plans, but it's doable."

Blaine shook his head, not comprehending.

"Why? I mean, why would it be a _bad_ idea?"

He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen his father _flustered_ before.

"Well, you know, you two are… together, right?"

"Yes?"

"And I guess… it can't be so different from what I recall of being in love as a teenager. Which includes… um… hormones and such…"

Blaine blushed to the tips of his ears, which for him, unlike Kurt, was a feat. Was his father really trying to talk to him about _sex_? A week ago, he would have said, with utter conviction, that such a thing would never, _ever_ happen.

"So… You're asking if you can trust us to be alone together in a hotel room?"

"Something like that, I guess. I mean, you're young, you um… like each other, and having a chance to spend so much time alone, to sleep in the same room… I just… don't want you to make haste decisions based on circumstances alone. You've been through a lot recently and I don't want you to get worse or something." Mr. Anderson shook his head and reached for a bottle of cognac that he kept on a side table. "Oh god, this is awkward."

Blaine chuckled softly. It was good to know he was not the only one feeling uncomfortable here.

"Dad. You have nothing to worry about. We sleep together all the time when I'm at Kurt's."

"What?"

Okay, so it may only have sounded like a good argument in his head, judging by his dad's shocked expression.

"No, I mean, not like _that_! We just… share the bed? Okay, that doesn't sound good either."

"And Kurt's parents are _fine_ with this?"

_Uh-oh_. Blaine knew that if he didn't fix this fast, he may never get to stay over at Kurt's again.

"Okay, it's like this. That first week after… after the rape Kurt slept close to me, because it was the only way I could sleep through the night. He sang to me and helped me when I had nightmares. Then, when I went there for a weekend, we were already together. So Mr. Hummel sat us down and gave us a talk. He said that he trusted us to be good for each other and respect our boundaries and not hurry anywhere. And that's just how we've been. I can't believe I'm telling this to _you_, but okay, if it convinces you not to worry… Just… _neither_ of us is anywhere near ready for anything much and I don't think this is going to change anytime soon. So…"

His father drank the cognac in one go.

"Okay, I really don't want to know the details of my son's sex life, thank you. I think Burt already told you more or less what I meant. So if you're sure you'll be alright with one room, it's fine by me. Just one more thing. I have to ask you two to be discreet about your relationship when you're around the hotel or conference center."

Blaine tried to hide the hurt in his eyes even as he said "Okay."

"Now, Blaine, don't give me that look. I'd tell you the same if you were there with a girlfriend. It's our work environment, these people know us professionally and I'd rather not give them reasons to pay much attention to you and gossip. I prefer our private and professional lives to stay separate."

"Oh. Okay, I get it."

"Good. Now, go. I have to finish with the budget."

"Thanks, Dad."

Blaine felt dazed as he went back to his room. Did he really just have _a sex talk_ with his father?

* * *

><p>New York, New York. Glorious, breathtaking in its multicolored, rushing beauty, open and tempting. And <em>free<em>. So many things to see and experience, so many views and sensations to take in, so many places to hold hands and steal kisses without caring about all the _people_ around. For the first three days they barely had time to breathe, busy just _experiencing_ it all, leaving the hotel at the crack of dawn and returning late in the evening, exhausted, only to drop on the bed and fall asleep immediately. On the fourth day, first hungers sated, they finally took their time to walk slowly amidst the never ending rush, hand in hand, imagining their futures here.

Kurt had known for a long time that this was where he wanted to study. For Blaine, New York had always been high on the list as well, and since they'd become a couple, it had swiftly moved to the top. Now, walking through the city they hoped to call home one day, they could dream aloud together. They discussed colleges and living arrangements, glanced at each other with shy smiles while daring to still use _we_ as they shared dreams about the _after_ that each of them hoped for, but had never talked about before. It was inspiring and exhilarating to look at the streets and buildings and people, and know that with luck and hard work, they could be back here a year from now, back for good, to make their lives in this city, together.

That evening they went to sleep early, to rest before touring colleges – they had planned to spend the day getting all of their tours done. The next morning was warm and sunny, and they woke up giddy with expectations and possibilities. Would one of the places they were going to see today be where they'd get to spend the next four years of their lives? Would they be able to visit all the schools on their list in one day? Blaine was only interested in NYU, while Kurt wanted to see Juliard and NYADA in addition.

Blaine was getting ready in the bathroom when Kurt's voice reached him through the open door.

"Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

He finished applying aftershave and reached for his t-shirt.

"Do you think we could…"

A gasp followed, much closer this time, just as Blaine was pulling the shirt over his head. When his eyes were no longer covered by the dark fabric, he saw Kurt standing in the doorway with his lips parted and his eyes wide, staring at his uncovered chest as if hypnotized. Kurt's pupils were blown almost black and there was blush creeping up his neck as he looked. Blaine's breath hitched as the shirt fell into place, covering him; Kurt was evidently enjoying the view.

Images flew through Blaine's mind, unexpected: Kurt's hand smoothing over his back, up his stomach, fingers playing with the light dusting of hair on his chest. Kurt kissing his way from Blaine's neck, through a collarbone, down to suck at a nipple. Kurt shirtless. Touching and kissing Kurt's body, worshipping the expanses of skin he was always hiding under his layered clothing. The strength of desire Blaine felt just thinking about it stunned him.

But Kurt had already snapped out of his fascinated staring and was by Blaine's side in an instant, reaching to tangle his fingers in still damp curls and pull him into a kiss. It was nothing like the sweet, slow kisses with which they usually started; this was all heat and tongue and palpable _need_, and Blaine responded in kind, pulling him closer until their bodies melted together. Kurt's free hand snuck under the hem of Blaine's t-shirt and up his side, somehow shy and daring at the same time, and he felt himself shiver at the sensation.

They'd done this a couple of times while making out, fingers carefully mapping the borders of new, unknown territory, but never like this. This was all intent and request for permission, this was opening the door instead of peeking through a crack. And Blaine felt _so_ ready to go there now. He just slid his hand up Kurt's back under his button-up and was reveling in all the warm satiny skin and sudden acceleration of Kurt's breathing when the phone in his back pocket rang. He groaned and broke the kiss to take it out, Kurt's hand never leaving his side.

The display said _Dad_. Not answering wasn't an option. He raised the phone to his ear, his face apologetic.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Blaine. We were wondering if you two wanted to join us for breakfast before you go to tour the colleges. Say, in ten minutes, downstairs?"

"Of course. We'll be there."

There was no more time to spare. Blaine kissed Kurt one last time and looked at him regretfully.

"We need to get ready. We're eating breakfast with my parents."

Kurt nodded, his eyes still sparkling.

"We'll be back here tonight, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter:<strong> Skin


	2. Skin

**2. SKIN**

The day was busy, thrilling and filled with new experiences, information and ideas. But all along – through breakfast with his parents, moving around the city, visiting schools, talking with people – the prospect of going back to the hotel in the evening was on Blaine's mind, making his heart beat faster and his fingers tangle with Kurt's more urgently. He couldn't help staring, things he hadn't really consciously noticed about Kurt now all he could see; the way the shirt clung to Kurt's back when he reached up, a sliver of skin he glimpsed between the buttons when he turned, the line of his shoulders, his arms, lean, but toned, hugged perfectly by short sleeves of his shirt. Everything seemed to be new and breathtaking. If Kurt felt similar anticipation and excitement, he didn't let it show, but he was smiling constantly and didn't even complain when Blaine insisted on pizza for dinner.

And then it was finally evening and they were in their hotel room, going through the usual routine of preparing for bed, but something in the air between them seemed to be buzzing with electricity, their excitement palpable. Blaine showered first and for the next twenty minutes tried to distract himself – with a book, checking his e-mail, looking through the college pamphlets… none of which worked. He ended up sticking his iPod into the portable docking station and choosing the _Romantic_ playlist, switching off all the lights except the small bedside lamps, and then looking through the window, not really seeing the amazing cityscape below. The moment he heard the bathroom door open, he moved.

They met in the middle of the room, looking into each other's eyes intently, the moment lying before them, ready to be taken. Then Blaine leaned towards Kurt's lips that met him gratefully, and just like that, they were in well-known territory.

The slide of lips, drag of tongues, mingled breath caught between their mouths, long-perfected routes along tendons and over sensitive skin, connecting their favorite spots on each other's necks and throats like dot-by-dot pictures. Shivers, moans, gasps and little whimpers. Hotter, more daring, until Kurt's hand wandered under Blaine's t-shirt, sliding smoothly over his back, and the temperature in the room suddenly raised.

Blaine was hyper-aware of every millimeter of skin covered by these fingertips, electricity jumping along neurons, leaving his skin buzzing and alive. He moaned louder and sucked lightly on Kurt's neck before sliding his own hand up his boyfriend's side, hitching his t-shirt up to his chest. Their skin met suddenly where their stomachs were partially uncovered and they both gasped.

Kurt reached both hands to raise Blaine's t-shirt even more. He sounded breathless as he asked, "Can I?"

Blaine didn't hesitate. "Yes. Please."

The t-shirt slid off him in one smooth motion and soon Blaine's uncovered nipples were hardening in the cool air of the air-conditioned room. Kurt stared, fascinated, his eyes wide and dark with arousal. Then he reached to touch Blaine's chest and slide his hand all the way down, stopping just over the waist of his pants.

"What did I do to deserve such a gorgeous boyfriend?" There was awe in Kurt's voice, and Blaine blushed. Really, if anyone here was gorgeous…

"I don't really know what you see in me. But if we're talking about gorgeous men… There's one here with me and I'd really love to get to see more of him tonight."

Kurt pretended to scan the room for anyone else present and chuckled lightly, but Blaine could clearly hear tension in his voice. He looked at his boyfriend seriously.

"Kurt? If you don't want to, I understand, you know that. Don't do anything you're not ready for just because I asked."

Kurt shook his head, looking down at the floor.

"No, it's not that. I'm ready. It's just… I guess I'm self-conscious, that's all."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Nobody's really seen me shirtless since I was 12, apart from my doctor maybe. I even change in the bathroom at school to avoid being looked at. It's just… I don't feel like I'm manly enough, I guess. I don't have abs like Mike or Sam, I have no chest hair. There's nothing attractive in what I see in the mirror."

Blaine chuckled and immediately felt Kurt stiffen against him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No, baby. Just at the idea of you and unattractive uttered in one sentence. Kurt, you're one of the most attractive guys I've ever seen. You are the _definition _of attractive to me. And believe me, you _are_ manly. I'm gay and I'm all over you, haven't you noticed? Doesn't that say something to you?"

Kurt blushed.

"But…"

Blaine looked at him earnestly and cupped Kurt's face in his hands, kissing him gently.

"Baby, listen. If you don't want to do this, we don't do this. It's that easy. I would never press you, you know that."

His boyfriend sighed.

"No, I want to. I really do, it's just… Taking off my shirt, uncovering myself in front of you. I guess I'm scared. That you won't like what you see."

"I'm absolutely certain I will. Would it be easier if _I_ took it off for you?"

Kurt's breath hitched.

"I think it might help."

Blaine kissed him again, gentle and sweet, sliding his thumbs under the hem of Kurt's t-shirt and slowly moving his hands up over the warm, smooth skin. When the fabric was bunched around his chest, Kurt broke the kiss, closed his eyes and raised his arms, and Blaine slid the shirt off entirely. In the silence that fell, Blaine couldn't take his eyes off his boyfriend's still form. He was _gorgeous_. There was no other word for that. Not overly muscled, but slender and beautifully toned all over, his skin pale and perfect, his nipples small, pink, as if asking to be kissed, his shoulders broad and his waist so slim. Blaine smoothed his hand over Kurt's neck, his shoulder, down his arm, and the boy inhaled sharply and opened his eyes, clearly anxious.

"Blaine? Say something?"

"You are the most beautiful man I've ever seen." He was dazed, amazed. He leaned in and kissed Kurt's shoulder lightly, evoking a quiet gasp, then butterfly-kissed his way up the long neck and to the lips, parted like an invitation. When they fell into the kiss, their bodies melted together and suddenly there was _so much more_. So much skin touching, so many sensations at once, all the new places to touch, explore, kiss. The heat, the excitement of it all bled into their actions like an adrenaline shot and seconds later their hands were everywhere, lips wet and sloppy, frantic, bodies pressing together for more, _more_.

Blaine didn't notice anything anymore beside the smooth fire of Kurt's skin everywhere, Kurt's fingers leaving tingling traces along his chest and back, Kurt's lips and tongue covering every inch of skin they could reach, and it was already hard to stand upright. So they moved towards the bed, still fused together, Blaine pushing Kurt gently backwards until the back of his knees met the bed, and then they were falling, barely controlled, onto the crisp white bedding.

Even this wasn't enough to make them part, they were still kissing with abandon, deeply, passionately, both lost in it, safe in their trust in each other and the knowledge that neither would hurt the other in any way. This was all they needed to let go, it seemed, both ready for something more, something new within the tight boundaries they'd set together.

Now, horizontal on the bed, leaning above Kurt, almost on top of him, Blaine could easily see and explore, every touch a revelation, every kiss a firework. Leaving the perfect harbor of Kurt's lips, Blaine slid towards his neck, territory still safe and well-known, yet newly exciting with the added heat of naked skin under Blaine's chest and hands. And then he crossed the next boundary, placing slow kisses on Kurt's collarbones, swiping his tongue around the perfect dip in between and then diving down, towards uncharted grounds.

Kurt's hand got tangled in his hair, his heartbeat under Blaine's lips was fast and exciting, his breath loud, ragged. Blaine kissed and licked his way down towards one perfect nipple, already hard and pebbled, whether from the cool of air conditioning or arousal, he couldn't tell. As soon as he placed a light, barely-there kiss on it, Kurt arched and moaned quietly, more expressive and unrestrained than ever. Encouraged, Blaine rolled the tip of his tongue around the nipple, then sucked it into his mouth, amazed and awed at the helpless keening it evoked. Kurt's free hand was grabbing the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. His eyes were closed, his mouth open and panting. The image and sounds got to Blaine, turned him on more than he remember being, maybe ever. Down where his stomach was pressed against Kurt's hips, he could suddenly feel he wasn't the only one.

That thought was still too new, too intimidating and a little scary despite its hotness, so Blaine shifted a bit to the side and directed his attention towards Kurt's stomach, flat and hard, the skin smooth except for the perfect narrow trail of light hair down from the belly button. He started smoothing his hand over the pale expanse of skin, kissing down Kurt's side slowly, when his boyfriend whimpered high and breathless and grabbed his hand to pull him up on the bed, back into a kiss.

Kurt whispered frantically against Blaine's lips.

"Blaine, _Blaine_ god what are you doing to me? This is crazy, this is more than I've ever felt before, _ever_. I've never been so turned on… and _yes_ and it's _right_ and I _want_ to, but you need to let me breathe or I'll lose my mind. Let me, just… _let me_…"

And they were kissing again. Kurt rolled them so that they lay side by side, his hand wandering and caressing. Down Blaine's side, up his stomach, fingers raking lightly through the hair on his chest. It should tickle - Blaine was terribly ticklish - but surprisingly it didn't. It was like liquid heat, like buzzing under his skin wherever Kurt's hand went, waves of pleasure spreading like circles on the water.

Once Kurt's lips left his and started to follow the route his hand already scouted, Blaine was lost to the world. No one ever told him he was going to feel _this much_. Everyone talked about sex and orgasms and blowjobs and how amazing they all were, but this? Blaine could do just _this_ forever.

The waves of pleasure still spreading, intensifying, growing with every breath against his skin, every swipe of exploring tongue and press of curious fingers, Blaine instinctively did the one thing his body seemed to crave more and more. He rolled his hips against the hard curve of Kurt's hip, just once.

This was a mistake.

The crashing waves of arousal turned into a tsunami within a second and nothing could stop it now. Blaine whimpered, helpless and overwhelmed, as he felt the sensation run over him, brutal and fast, before he was completely lost for however long it lasted. It was amazing.

It was terrifying.

As soon as he came down enough to control his muscles, Blaine flew from the bed, noticing Kurt's shocked face out of the corner of his eye before running to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, pajama pants sticking accusingly to his thighs.

* * *

><p>Kurt was left lying on the bed, shocked and confused. He felt too many emotions all at once. It was amazing. It was scary. It was too fast. But before that, everything was just right. Blaine… Kurt had trouble even thinking the word, but it was ridiculous. Blaine had <em>come<em>. That's what it was, plain and simple. Physiology. The obvious result of arousal – an accident, judging by his reaction. Something normal, natural. Something new and therefore terrifying.

Kurt took a moment to regain his breath and carefully examine his feelings. He needed to know where he was in all this before he went to try and talk to Blaine.

It was awkward, there was no doubt about it. He was shocked, but mostly because it was so new and unexpected. It was too far, too fast. As certain as he had been about taking the next step and removing some of their clothing, he didn't feel ready for… um… getting off together? Not yet anyway. He suspected Blaine wasn't either.

But other than that? Kurt was surprised to realize he was fine. As shy and hesitant as he was about anything sexual, he couldn't be more sure that he and Blaine were on the same page, and that they could trust each other. Kurt felt calm confidence envelop him; no, he wasn't scared, or ashamed. They would talk, and it would be awkward, and maybe difficult, but they'd be fine. They'd get to this point one day, maybe even soon, if the tiny part of Kurt's mind that found it breathtakingly hot was to be believed. He felt his furious blush fade and his heart slow down. He was ready to talk.

He got up and went to knock on the bathroom door. Silence answered him, so he called out, his voice quiet and gentle.

"Blaine? Are you alright?"

The answer sounded choked.

"I… I need a moment, Kurt."

"Okay, baby. Okay."

But when ten minutes passed and there was still no sound from the bathroom, Kurt got worried enough to act. He moved to the dresser and took out some of Blaine's yoga pants, clean and unused, because they didn't have time to lounge around their room with all the things to see and experience here. When he reached the bathroom door again, he laid his hand flat on the light wood, like it was his beloved's skin. The worry sounded clearly in his voice when he spoke.

"Blaine, please… Can I come in?"

There was a sigh, followed by a quiet "Okay."

When Kurt opened the door, his heart squeezed painfully and he flashed back to those bleak, terrifying days just after Blaine had been raped. The way his boyfriend was now sitting on the cold bathroom floor against the side of the tub, knees hugged tightly to his chest and face hidden, radiated hurt and vulnerability. Kurt wanted to hug him, but he just knelt in front of him instead.

"Blaine, honey. What's wrong?"

Blaine didn't raise his head from his knees, just shook it once without a word. Kurt tried again.

"I… I brought you fresh pants if you want to shower and change."

Blaine whimpered, the sound muffled by the way he was sitting, and Kurt couldn't help himself any longer. Gently touching his boyfriend's hand, he let all the love he felt bleed into his voice.

"Baby, it's alright, it's perfectly fine. Hey, look at me. Please." Hesitant, Blaine raised his head, his face flushed and unhappy. His voice was low and rough when he spoke.

"How can you say it's alright? I… I pushed you too far, Kurt. _Pushed_ you. How can you even stand to _look _you at me now…"

Kurt would have laughed, but he could see how serious Blaine was about it, especially in light of his past experiences, so he just smiled reassuringly.

"No, you didn't. I don't remember doing _anything_ less than consensual with you."

Blaine's amber eyes widened. "But…"

"But what? All we did was make out, just shirtless this time. And it was perfect."

"But I…"

"But you what? You, well… reacted. Which is kind of flattering really. I was taken by surprise, I admit, and my inner baby penguin freaked out a little, but come on, I'm a boy too. I know how this works. I know stuff happens. Why do you think I interrupted your kissing my stomach earlier? It was _too_ hot. Half a minute longer and _I_ would be freaking out now."

Kurt felt himself blushing furiously at this admission. It was another level of intimacy and just months ago he would never have believed he could talk about it like that.

Blaine's face softened, the heavy clouds of worry in his eyes dissipating slowly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"It was too far though, wasn't it? Too soon. It was for me at least." Blaine finished quietly.

Kurt nodded.

"Yeah, me too. I think we need more time before we get… there. Okay?"

"Perfectly okay." A shadow of a smile ghosted over Blaine's face. "I think I'll take a shower again. Thank you for the pants."

"No problem. I'll be in bed." Kurt leaned in to press a soft, sweet kiss to his boyfriend's lips before he went out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>When Blaine got into bed, Kurt was still awake. And still shirtless. Blaine was sure it would be too much for the other boy and was ready to find his t-shirt, but Kurt patted the bed.<p>

"Would you mind if we slept like this? I love the feeling of your skin on mine." Kurt was blushing, but his smile didn't waver.

"Of course I don't mind. Can we cuddle?"

"I hoped you'd want to."

Once they were as close as they could without crawling under each other's skin, enveloped in darkness and heat and touch, Blaine closed his eyes and whispered against Kurt's neck.

"Can I confess something?"

"Anything." Kurt's warm whisper tangled in his hair.

"This was the first time I… I've _come_ since before _that_ night." Kurt's strong arms hugged him tighter. He understood which night he was referring to.

"Oh."

"Yeah. I… I just can't. Touch myself." Blaine felt his ears burn, but the darkness boosted his courage and he felt a pressing need to tell Kurt, so that he knew how much he'd changed in Blaine's life. How _safe_ Kurt made him feel. "So this, now, was… was too far, too fast and awkward and I'm sorry and all, but it's… It means… so much."

He felt the trembling in Kurt's breath. "Thank you for telling me. And for… just… thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>Tension


	3. Tension

**3. TENSION**

They were fine after that night, just like Kurt had predicted they would be. It would take much more than an awkward sexual experience to break them. They were back home from New York and the two weeks until the hiking trip lay before them like a promise, ready to be filled with anything they wanted – music and love, movies and long talks. They were practically inseparable, always together, soaking in each other's presence, warmth, touch. It was like a healing balm, this carefree summer time, just being together, without added stress, school, expectations. Blaine could feel the tension in him relax and all the remains of the hurt of previous months that still lingered like old bruises disappear under Kurt's touch, the Hummels' care, his own family's renewed love.

Blaine slept at home sometimes, of course, but as it was the busiest time of the year at the company, his parents were constantly absent, so they had no problem with his staying over at Kurt's as often as possible. And since Kurt's family didn't mind in the slightest, the two of them had a lot of time to love and slowly explore each other.

They'd talked after that night in New York, the next morning when it was all still painfully fresh in their minds, and the conversation was long and a bit awkward, and they both blushed a lot and held hands. They redefined their boundaries, neither of them quite ready for anything more than shirtless make outs yet, keeping things above the belt. They promised to talk and ask when the time came for more, because yes, they both knew it would come.

And then they'd had an epic make out session that left them breathless, dazed and awed.

It was as if the realization that they were both ready to go beyond what they'd been doing for months had somehow broken the dam, releasing hormones and filling the air around them with sexual tension. Every touch felt different now, when there was intent there, when they knew where it would lead eventually – not yet, but soon. Soon they would be ready and there for each other to give and take, to pleasure and undo and put back together.

Blaine had a constant, never ending need to touch Kurt, hold him close, feel him. He was not alone in this. Kurt's hand was always close by, whether to hold in the safety of their homes or to brush against fleetingly in public.

And there were nights together in Kurt's bed. And there were days when no one else was home but the two of them – Burt and Carole at work, Finn at Puck's or Rachel's or wherever.

The times when they lay long into the darkest hours of the night, shirtless and kissing, touching, taking breaks every so often to cool off before they dove back into each other, their gasps and whispers quiet and reverent, until they fell asleep still hard and aching and hungry for more in the most delicious way, because they knew more would come when they were both ready, soon, _so_ soon.

Days when they cuddled on the couch, watching something on the TV, Kurt's hand tracing abstract patterns under Blaine's t-shirt or Blaine unhurriedly opening the buttons of Kurt's shirt, one by one, to finally lay his cheek on his boyfriend's naked chest and breathe in rhythm with his strong heartbeat.

They learned a lot in these two weeks. They mapped their bodies studiously and carefully, every inch of uncovered skin, until there were no secrets, until Kurt no longer hesitated before taking his shirt off, no matter the lighting. They found out what made the other gasp, moan, shiver, lose his mind with pleasure. They each had their favorite spots on the other's body. They knew when to stop and what signals their bodies sent when they entered the danger zone. They slept shirtless every night, cuddling, spooning, and finally got to the point when they no longer blushed and jumped apart whenever they felt the other's hardness.

And then it was time for the hiking trip to start.

* * *

><p>The plan was simple. The five of them – the Hummel-Hudson family plus Blaine – went by car; tents, food and everything they needed packed tightly into the big trunk. Two campsites were chosen, five nights on each. They planned to hike and relax, cook on a small old campstove, talk and sing long into the night – Blaine's guitar was carefully packed between sleeping bags – and have a great time far from civilization. They had their cell phones with them, but would only turn them on once a day to check for messages and texts. Other than that, there were no electronics allowed on this trip. Finn sulked about not being in constant contact with Rachel and missing music and TV, but neither Kurt nor Blaine minded this rule. For each of them there was only one person they felt like they couldn't live without – and they were right there.<p>

Kurt had been on many such trips, first with both his parents, then just his dad, but for Blaine and Finn it was the first time sleeping in a tent. There were two – one for Burt and Carole, the other for the boys. It was spacious enough that they didn't felt like they slept _with_ Finn, but it felt awkward anyway the first night. Kurt and Blaine had a double air-mattress; Burt decided there was no sense cramping the space with three separate ones when they always slept together anyway.

Finn was okay with that, he was used to them together, holding hands, cuddling on a couch, even sharing a quick kiss sometimes. If there had ever been any trace of homophobia in him – conscious or not – it had long since evaporated. But it was one thing to know they were together, and quite another to actually _see_ your brother sleep tangled in another boy. It didn't take long to banish any awkwardness though – one night of talking for hours in the darkness, telling ghost stories, giggling and feeling young and carefree, and nobody noticed the sleeping arrangements anymore.

Oh, well, that's not quite true. _Finn_ stopped noticing. There was no way Kurt or Blaine could miss the tiny detail of a warm, tempting body beside them, especially since they joined their sleeping bags into one to have at least that much intimacy. But the closeness of the single sleeping bag was more of a torture than anything else, it turned out.

The problem with Finn wasn't even that he snored. Or, well, it wasn't the biggest problem. It was the fact that sometimes he woke up because of the smallest sounds if they weren't something he was used to. He slept right through his alarm every morning of the school year, but a shadow of a gasp Blaine let out when Kurt's hand slid under his t-shirt on the fourth night caused a tense moment when Finn sat up on his mattress, looking around half-consciously. Even the quiet sounds of lips on lips caused Finn to mumble and toss in his sleep. So they could cuddle and touch innocently, and sleep in each other's embrace, which was amazing of course, but their newly awakened hormones made for a torturous amounts of sexual tension they had no way of resolving.

They'd never been fans of PDA, mostly for safety reasons; Kurt also insisted he found it distasteful when people were shamelessly making out in public. But they both dreamed of being able to hold hands or kiss chastely, not caring about people looking; of just being allowed to act like a couple outside of safe, private places. Having tasted this freedom in New York, they found it even more difficult now. But they were used to acting with restraint, and so they didn't even try to cross any borders when around other people on the campsite or the hiking trails. At least they could hold hands sometimes, hiking along less frequented paths. Once, they got up just after dawn and made a short hike by themselves just to be able to find a secluded spot and enjoy a passionate kissing session, lying on the grass under the canopy of trees, in the pale morning light. It felt like heaven after a week of being so close, yet unable to act on their desires.

Other than the erotic torture, which shouldn't have been a priority on this trip anyway, they were having a lot of fun. It was a time for bonding even closer with Kurt's family and getting to know more of each other. It was physically exhausting, because they hiked for hours every day, but at the same time incredibly relaxing. Free of the everyday life and well-known surroundings, they rested in every possible way, for the first time fully realizing how much they both needed it after this damn year. They restored their energy levels, gathered strength, and fell even more in love.

* * *

><p>Burt didn't really want to know about his sons' sex life. He believed that his role as a parent was to raise and prepare them so that when the time and the person was right, they were ready to make smart, responsible decisions and be safe. So he hardly ever thought about what happened behind the closed door to Kurt's room when Blaine was sleeping over. Sure, he worried sometimes, he couldn't help it, knowing how vulnerable they both were, but he trusted them to be respectful and good for each other. They've been together about five months, if he counted properly, and all he knew was that they kissed.<p>

On the last day of their trip, they hiked to a small, clean lake hidden in the forest. It was their destination for the day and the plan was to swim and cool off – they were wearing swimming trunks and suits underneath their clothes – and then dry in the sun and have a picnic before heading back to the camp and packing up for the return trip.

It was a beautiful, secluded spot, bathed in sunlight. The water looked inviting; according to the guide, it was safe and not too deep. Finn was the first to dive in, having undressed in seconds, and soon he was splashing joyfully and calling for the others to join him. Carole was already in a bathing suit, waiting for Burt, who was taking his shorts off. He was just about to ask Kurt if he was sure he wouldn't want to swim too – it was a routine that went back years; ever since Kurt was still a pre-teen he preferred to sit in the shade, fully clothed, always saying something about the _sun_ and _skin_ and _ultraviolet light_ and stuff.

But when Burt looked over to the right, he saw Blaine standing shirtless, in loose red swimming trunks, watching Kurt with awe in his eyes. Kurt, who… Burt's mouth fell open. His son was just pulling off his t-shirt without a second of hesitation, before folding it quickly and laying it next to his shorts on a neat pile. Then he stood there in his own blue trunks that Burt didn't remember having seen before, suddenly a good looking young man, no longer the child he'd been when Burt had last seen him like this, and flashing a quick, easy smile.

"So, are we swimming or not?"

Burt nodded and moved towards water, thinking gratefully that even though he didn't want to know about his son's sex life, it was good to see that Blaine must obviously be doing something right for Kurt's self-esteem. Even if that something involved removal of clothes.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>Ready


	4. Ready

**4. READY**

The drive back home passed in silence. Everyone was busy switching to normal life mode, imagining comfortable beds, proper showers, air conditioning and homemade, fresh food. Kurt had actually moaned shamelessly when Carole reminded him that morning that starting tomorrow, he would be able to have all the fruits and vegetables he dreamed of. He was sitting in the back of the car now, leaning against his boyfriend's shoulder with his eyes closed and his hand in Blaine's, thinking of what he missed even more than all the fruits and veggies in the world.

It was hard to believe how different he felt than the shy, awkward "baby penguin" he'd been just months ago. Sure, he wasn't ready for _everything _yet, intimately, but it would be weird and possibly unhealthy if he was, all of a sudden, wouldn't it? And the real difference was in Kurt's head. Before Blaine, he'd frozen and blushed just _thinking_ about sex. So he hadn't thought about it, not if he could help it – romance was a much more pleasant source of fantasies after all. Of course, being a teenage boy, he masturbated sometimes – though rarely and it was awkward every time – but that was it. Porn had always repulsed him instead of arousing; animalistic, carnal, without a grain of romance.

But now… Now being with Blaine had made him understand that it wasn't an either/or thing. It wasn't like he could have either romance or sex. He felt like theirs was a perfect love story, everything slow and romantic, yet when Blaine's lips touched his, Kurt's blood sang and his skin tingled. It was with Blaine that he discovered what being really turned on felt like, learned that – and what – he _wanted_;it was Blaine who showed Kurt that he could be loved and desired, and that at least in his boyfriend's eyes, he was beautiful. They learned from each other every day; how to act, how to speak about feelings and about sex.

And Kurt felt like there was another of these talks coming. He smirked to himself at the double meaning and marveled once again at how much he'd changed; he didn't even blush thinking about it now. Thinking about _coming_. About _orgasms_. _Getting each other off_. No, there was still a hint of blush here. Oh well, all in due time.

But speaking of due time, this was just it: Kurt was ready. He was so, _so_ ready. He'd felt like this ever since their little _rendezvous_ on the meadow four days ago, as if he was bitten by some kind of lust bug there. These last days, and _oh god_ nights, it was all he could think about – Blaine's hand on him, touching him, stroking. Or maybe not _on him_, not yet, maybe over his pants for starters, but _there_. And his own hand on Blaine, right where he'd been pressed hard against Kurt's hip when they'd woken up this morning. When Blaine soundlessly drew little circles with his tongue on the side of his neck, Kurt could barely contain himself, clenching his hands into fists, biting his lip hard, so as not to just grab his boyfriend's hand and pull it, press it against his cock, hard and oh so wanting. But that damn tent and his damn stepbrother… And now, _now_ they could finally kiss again, _touch_ again, just as soon as they shut Kurt's bedroom door behind them this evening. Blaine was sleeping over tonight.

For a wild moment Kurt considered telling Blaine what he wanted, talking about being ready, tonight. And if Blaine wanted it too, doing it right then. Just thinking about it was turning Kurt into a hot mess. But he forced his body to calm down – a practice he was getting quite good at – and thought about it rationally. Well, as rationally as he could think about actually _coming apart under Blaine's fingers_. And _rationally_, he knew it would be better to wait, to talk about it when they weren't so desperate for each other.

So maybe not tonight, but soon. Blaine would go home tomorrow morning, to spend the weekend with his parents, and when he came back next week… They would have the house to themselves again for hours – more than enough time to talk and… and more. Content with his plan, Kurt burrowed closer into Blaine's shoulder and opened his eyes, meeting the amber gaze. His beautiful (_sexy, oh so sexy, damn him_) boyfriend smiled softly.

"What were you thinking about?"

Kurt glanced at Finn to check that he was still asleep before he whispered.

"Just you. Sleeping over."

It worked just as he intended. Blaine's eyes turned wide and dark immediately and Kurt smiled mischievously.

* * *

><p>The night was wild, their impatient fingers and hungry lips finally allowed contact, and Blaine's mind was reeling by the time they decided to actually get some sleep after all. He couldn't even tell the number of times they had separated, withdrawing rapidly to sit on opposite ends of the bed and think neutral thoughts until their blood was no longer at boiling point and their heartbeats calmed down. Again, and again. Blaine didn't know how many times, but he was pretty sure he would have either come or died if they kept on doing it any longer. Even now, lying in Kurt's embrace, face to face, hips carefully apart, he was aching, <em>needing<em> so much that a part of him wanted to scream and beg for release.

He still hadn't touched himself, even after that _accident_ in New York. There was a part of him that shuddered at the thought. He wasn't exactly sure why it was; in therapy, he'd worked through his blaming himself for the attack, he'd gotten to the point of believing again that sex wasn't something bad, twisted or hurtful. He was okay _with_ Kurt, thinking of Kurt, wanting him. But whenever he thought of taking matters into his own hand, so to speak, something stopped him; his cock lost interest within seconds. It was unbelievably frustrating. And as a healthy teenage boy who'd been living in an almost constant state of arousal for weeks, well, sometimes he felt like he was going crazy.

Tonight they'd gotten closer than ever to losing all control and Blaine caught himself kind of regretting that they hadn't. He'd be fine with it now, he thought. He'd be happy if Kurt just _touched_ him. But they hadn't talked about it yet and he wasn't about to start in the middle of making out, when they were both far from reasonable. This wasn't a decision he wanted them to make in the heat of the moment. He'd wait and they would talk soon. And if Kurt wanted it too, they'd… No, no thinking about it now. But soon. _So _soon.

* * *

><p>Except life had other ideas.<p>

Blaine's mom came to pick him up early in the morning. She hugged him and greeted everyone cheerfully, but excused herself from staying for coffee.

"Thank you, Carole, another day, now we have to hurry back to do a quick laundry and pack."

Blaine's eyebrows raised.

"Don't you mean _un_pack?"

She laughed, mischief in her eyes.

"No baby. I have a surprise for you. You. And I. Are going… To _Italy_! Tonight. For three whole weeks. Oh, it will be _fabulous_! We'll rent a car and see it all: Rome, Venice, Verona, Tuscany, whatever we want… We'll get to spend some quality time together at last, sightseeing, lazing on a beach, eating delicious Italian food…"

Blaine could feel that his face showed perfectly well just how stunned he was. He also felt how tight Kurt's grip on his hand had suddenly become when _three weeks_ hung in the air like a prison sentence. Three whole weeks. They hadn't been apart for so long since… well, ever, actually, since they'd met. It seemed like eternity.

Aware of his mom's expectant expression, Blaine managed to find his voice.

"Oh wow, mom, that's amazing! And… unexpected. I think I'm in a bit of a shock. Why didn't you tell me sooner so I could have prepared, planned something?" _Like maybe last night, with more talking and then definitely more touching, and much less sleeping…_

Sure, he was elated that he would get to spend time with his mom, and he'd always wanted to see Italy, but right now it was all shadowed by the realization that he wouldn't get to touch, kiss, even _see_ Kurt for so long.

"Oh well, I wanted it to be a surprise. And I hadn't been 100% sure I'd manage to take time off in all this craziness at the company. But we're done with the worst of it and I can go. Okay, I'll take your bag to the car, say your goodbyes and join me. Carole, Burt, thank you all so much for taking Blaine along. Kurt, you too. See you all later, bye!"

As soon as his mom closed the front door behind her, Carole smiled knowingly and came up to hug Blaine, Burt close behind.

"Take care, honey. It was good to have you come with us. We'll um… let you two say goodbye in private." She smiled knowingly.

Blaine shot them a grateful look.

"Thank you. For everything. It was wonderful."

They nodded and disappeared in the kitchen, closing the door behind them, and Kurt was on him within a heartbeat.

"Oh my god, Blaine, how am I supposed to survive _three weeks_ without you? I just… I can't… And after this trip, and Finn, and I just want… Um…" But Blaine never learned what it was that Kurt wanted, because then he had a sniffling, tearful boyfriend in his arms and could barely keep his own feelings in check.

"I know, I can't even imagine… But I _swear_ I'll text you and send emails and pictures, and I'm sure we can Skype."

"But it's not the same as talking in person and seeing you, and holding your hand… And _three weeks_, Blaine," came a sad, whining voice from his shoulder.

"I know, oh god, I'm gonna _die_."

Kurt raised his wet face.

"Don't you dare. I want you back here as soon as you return."

A car horn sounded from outside and Blaine winced. It was time to go. He tightened his embrace even more for a moment, before he let go.

"I'll write to you. As soon as I'm there, I'll let you know how and when we can contact and all. We'll survive this, do you hear me?"

"I know. I love you."

"I love you too."

One wet, salty kiss, and he was gone. Twenty-four hours later he was landing in Rome.

But part of his heart stayed in Lima, Ohio.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Away_


	5. Away

**A/N:** If you need visuals around the middle of the chapter, please refer to _certain pictures_ from last week.

* * *

><p>5. AWAY<p>

Italy was breathtaking. It was everything Blaine imagined and more. The cities, the scenery, the food, atmosphere and people. He really enjoyed himself, and spending all days with his mom, doing things they both loved, was something he realized he'd needed for a very long time. But wherever Blaine went, whatever he did, Kurt was always on his mind; more or less consciously, but always _there_.

He imagined Kurt's reactions to the monuments and tourist attractions in Rome; the narrow, twisted streets and canals of Venice. He thought how much he wanted to take Kurt for a gondola ride and kiss him on the Bridge of Sighs. He saw things Kurt would enjoy, but he could share them only by taking pictures to send in his next email. Walking through garishly colorful crowd, in his head Blaine could clearly hear Kurt's witty comments about the way some people dressed. Every now and then he couldn't help himself and bought things he knew Kurt would love – a beautiful silver brooch, a unique silk scarf, Venetian half-mask, all blue and silver, that would look perfect with Kurt's eyes – if only so that he could imagine his boyfriend's brightest smile as he unpacks each of them; the smile which he would finally see in two weeks… ten days… seven…

They were in contact, of course – otherwise Blaine was sure he would go crazy despite all the amazing aspects of this vacation. International calls and texts were expensive, so they restricted themselves, but Blaine had his laptop with him and virtually every hotel they stayed at offered internet connection. They emailed compulsively, sometimes as many as a dozen messages a day, and Skyped every evening, even if it was only to say goodnight when Blaine was too exhausted after all the walking and sightseeing and long car rides to keep his eyes properly open. These minutes (or, well, hours occasionally) were what he was always looking forward to all day.

He could see it was difficult for Kurt too – probably even more so since he didn't have all the distractions of having fun, seeing new things and planning routes and destinations every day. Kurt's eyes were so sad every time they said goodnight, but he was trying very hard not to let it show. He couldn't fool Blaine though. And last night, six days before Blaine's return, Kurt just about broke down into desperate sobbing after Blaine told him a funny story about a young Italian man trying to flirt with him shamelessly on the beach, in broken English.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, don't mind me," Kurt choked out, seeing Blaine's shocked expression. "Yes, I understand you didn't flirt back or encourage him, I get it. I just keep having this dream where you leave me for some statuesque Italian surfer or a model and it all just seems so real, and you're so far away it feels like another planet, and… Oh god I miss you so much!"

Blaine could feel his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. His eyes stung.

"I miss you too, baby. More than you can imagine. I think about you all the time, every single thing reminds me of you. When this guy was trying to impress me today, I almost laughed out loud, because I could just see what you would do if you were here. How you would make your famous bitch face and stake a claim by kissing me or hugging -"

His voice broke a little. He wanted it _so much_ right now.

"Six more days, Kurt. Six days and I'm all yours for the last week before school starts."

"I know. But it feels like eternity, you know?"

"I know. Believe me, I _do_."

* * *

><p>That was last night, and Blaine had tossed and turned afterwards, unable to get comfortable in a bed that suddenly felt cold and empty. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of stormy eyes, beautifully curved lips and silvery voice, and woke up aching with longing. They were spending the last week of their vacation lazing on a beach, just relaxing, but today Blaine found no pleasure in it at all. Swimming, sitting in the sun with a book he was really engaged in just yesterday, playing beach ball, waterskiing, eating ice cream in a charming little café they found – nothing felt like fun all day. He just wanted <em>Kurt<em>. He needed him like air. More, possibly. He felt like he was dying with every minute more they spent apart; like he'd reached the limit of time he could survive without being close to the boy he loved. Five more days loomed over him like an impossible weight, threatening to crush him at any moment.

At dinner his mom finally asked, concerned.

"Blaine, honey, what's eating you? You've been morose all day. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just… I miss Kurt, mom. I really, _really_ miss him." He was ashamed to realize the sting in his eyes suddenly became hot tracks of tears on his cheeks, but he couldn't help it. It was just… too much. "We'd never been apart for so long, you know? And it just hurts now. I know it's only five more days, I just… I'm having a hard time with this today, sorry. I'll be fine."

He forced a little laugh and shook his head; spoiling the last days of his mom's first vacation in years would be a terrible thing to do. He'd survive. It wasn't the end of the world. Even if it felt like it.

His mom's face softened and she squeezed his hand.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Yeah." His voice broke a little. Suddenly, he needed to share. "Can I… can I show you something?"

"Of course."

Blaine hesitated for just a moment more, before pulling out the little black velvet pouch he carried in his pocket ever since his visit in the tiny shop back in Verona. He hoped his mom would understand.

His hand shook as the contents of the pouch were carefully placed on it. Two identical shapes gleamed in the sun streaming through high windows. He looked up, a mixture of anxiety and hope in his eyes, but one glance told him he had no reason to worry. His mom didn't frown; she took in the simple silver bands, carefully etched sign on each like a horizontal 8, and asked, surprised.

"_Eternity_? Blaine, are you going to… to propose?"

He blushed.

"No, we're a bit young for that. I thought about these more like… promise rings? Because I know that one day I _will_ propose to Kurt, Mom. I know I want to marry him, years from now. It sounds silly when we're seventeen and have been together for less than six months, but I just… I _know_. It's like he completes me, like he's my soulmate. We're mostly okay when on our own, each of us, but only together we're perfect. It's just… _right_, you know?"

He really wanted his mom to understand this, and it seemed she did, her eyes turning a little teary even as she smiled.

"So… when do you plan to give the ring to Kurt?"

"I don't know, I haven't planned it yet. I just saw them in a window of this little shop and they seemed perfect. And when they turned out to be the right size, well. It felt like fate; I had to get them, you know? I'll probably wait, maybe for our first anniversary? I don't know. Just… I really love him, mom."

She nodded. "I know."

* * *

><p>Blaine couldn't get to sleep that night. He hoped a long Skype session with Kurt in the evening would relieve a bit of the longing, but it made it worse instead. Seeing Kurt and being unable to reach out and pull him close, experience him with all his senses, was like physical pain that didn't lessen even after they said goodnight and Blaine went to bed.<p>

It was midnight; 6 p.m. in Ohio. Blaine lay in bed, imagining what Kurt may be doing. Eating dinner with his family, maybe watching something together afterwards. Or he could be in his room, working on that sewing project they'd talked about, listening to the music, maybe singing along? Blaine just wanted to know, so that he could close his eyes and imagine Kurt, at this very minute, doing something familiar – to feel closer to him at least this way.

At three a.m. he gave up trying to sleep. Nothing helped. Maybe if he went for a walk – breathe some salty night air, get tired – he would be able to rest? Grabbing some clothes, his phone, and leaving a short note in case his mom came in and found him absent, Blaine went out.

The hotel stood right by the beach, but the hundred or so yards to the water edge made a world of difference. It was much darker here, dozens of lights from all the hotels seemed distant and soft, like beacons. It was quiet, the silence broken just by the sea and a drum playing rhythmically, hypnotically, somewhere far away. The beach looked completely deserted and it felt so good after the daily crowds here. Blaine started walking slowly, further away from the invisible drummer; not thinking, not planning on where, how far or how long. He just lost himself in the silence and the waves, and the stars shining brightly above.

_Even the stars over Kurt's head are different_, he thought sadly. _Only the moon is the same, only that connects us now_. He sat on the sand in a small, cozy cove, then laid down to look at the sky. It was so beautiful here, so peaceful. And so lonely. Before he knew it, he was choosing Kurt's number in his phone. Costs be damned, he _needed_ to hear him now. To know he wasn't alone.

* * *

><p>"Blaine?" Kurt's voice, surprised, a little anxious, sounded so much better on the phone than in the computer headphones. So much more like in person. "Isn't it the middle of the night in Italy? Did something happen?"<p>

"No, everything's fine. Apart from you not being here with me." He heard Kurt sigh worlds away. "Where are you right now?"

"In my bedroom, lying on the bed and staring at that picture you sent me today. The one where you're getting out of the water. I love your camera, by the way; I can count your eyelashes, every drop of water on your chest… But believe me, I'd rather be there with you. Where are you? What is that sound?"

"The sea. I'm on the beach, lying on the sand, looking at the sky. It's so starry tonight and the moon is painting the waves silver. Nobody's here and it's so quiet and peaceful. I'm in this perfect little place and I miss you _so much_. I wish you were here, beside me, to look at the water and count the stars, and hold hands. It would all feel complete then. With you." Blaine realized his voice took on a slow, dreamy quality. Kurt seemed a bit breathless as he answered.

"Oh god, tell me more. I want to be able to imagine I'm there with you."

Blaine closed his eyes, pouring all his longing into the words that could reach Kurt when he couldn't. Frankly, he envied them.

"It's warm here, even this late. Only the sand is a little cold, but it's okay, I took off my shirt to lay on it. It's so peaceful, you know? Dark and quiet, the soft sand, the stars, the sound of the waves. When I close my eyes, I can easily imagine you lying here beside me, so close that when I reach out my hand, I can touch yours. Kurt, do you know how _much_ I miss you? It's like a physical discomfort, like my skin misses you, my lips. I think when I'm finally back I won't be able to stop touching you, just to make sure you're real and there, and to check if I still remember perfectly every single inch of your skin. Or at least every inch of the skin I've ever touched."

Blaine was suddenly aware of the fast, erratic breathing in the speaker, the muffled moan that sounded after his last words. A wave of heat coursed through his body, doing interesting things to certain parts of it. His voice was lower, more gravelly when he asked.

"Kurt, are you…"

There was a split second of hesitation, but then Kurt whispered, "Yes."

Blaine could clearly imagine the blush spreading on Kurt's face, down his neck, and his heart accelerated, his own breath becoming fast and ragged. Kurt. Was. Masturbating. To Blaine's words. To his picture. Spontaneous combustion suddenly became a real threat.

But then Kurt moaned again, more desperately. "Tell me, Blaine. Tell me what you'll do when you're back."

And words came easy, without thinking. Blaine could clearly see everything he would do, he just needed to describe the pictures behind his closed eyes.

"I'll take your hand, to remember how perfectly it fits against mine. I'll bring it up to my lips, to kiss the inside of your palm, the pulse point on your wrist. I love how soft your skin is, how delicate against my lips… I'll kiss my way all the way up the inside of your arm, to your neck. I'll need to revisit all my favorite spots there, check if I still remember how to make you shiver and moan with my tongue. Maybe I'll suck a tiny hickey somewhere near your collarbone to remind you I'm back every time you look in the mirror."

Kurt was moaning continuously now, the sound muffled but clearly audible in the phone pressed to Blaine's ear. The things this was doing to him were hard to believe – he'd never thought he would want to try any kind of phone sex, yet here he was, aching for Kurt just as much as in the middle of a heavy make-out. Kurt whined Blaine's name quietly when the silence stretched too long, shaking him out of the amazed daze.

"Sorry, you're just so beautiful, so vocal, I love to hear you, touch you, smell you… I will want to see you, more of you, it's my favorite view in the world, nothing else compares. So I'll slide my hands under your shirt…"

"… it's already off."

Now it was Blaine who groaned at the visual in his head.

"Okay, okay, oh god yes, all of your skin, I want to just touch, let my fingers linger and trace every muscle, rediscover it all. Check if every detail in my dreams was accurate, if your reactions when I lick around your nipple are really as intense as I remember. And if I suck at it? Will you need a break immediately, to cool off, like every time before?"

Judging by Kurt's panting and whimpers in the speaker, he would. Blaine didn't even stop to think before continuing.

"And all the while my hands will wander across your stomach, stopping at your waistband, so hungry for the touch of your skin. And maybe, maybe if you allow it, my hand will slide lower, down over your pants, where you're hot and hard and…" He interrupted, unsure if he didn't say too much, but Kurt's voice, high and completely out of breath, came in.

"Yes. Yes Blaine, yes, I want you to, please _yesssssssss_…" It broke roughly over the last word and then Blaine was lying on the sand, his eyes and mouth wide open, listening to his boyfriend keen and gasp as he came, thousands of miles away.

The next minute or two felt like eternity. Eternity filled with Kurt's shuddering breath and Blaine's blood pounding in his ears as he processed what just happened. When Kurt spoke again, he sounded sated and sleepy, but there was a hint of tension in his voice.

"Blaine?"

"I'm here." It came out a little breathless still. The image of Kurt, shirtless and flushed in a post-orgasmic bliss, didn't help his raging hard-on at all.

"I… I didn't freak you out, did I?"

"No. But you turned me on. _So_ bad."

"Good. I think I need to go shower now." Another visual, a bit blurred in places that Blaine could still only imagine, and he groaned. Kurt chuckled lightly, then his voice turned earnest. "You know… what I said… I really do. Want you. To touch me. I'm ready to go further. Just so you know."

This was too much for Blaine to endure. Something needed to be done. He shot up to his feet.

"Kurt wait, don't go shower yet."

"What? Why?"

"Give me ten minutes to get back to the hotel and to the shower too. I just want to… know… imagine…" He stumbled over words, the blood supply to his brain dramatically low at the moment, after all this, but Kurt caught his meaning and moaned quietly.

"Oh, I like the way you're thinking. Okay, it's a date then. Ten minutes. I'll be there, thinking of you."

Blaine was already running, but he had one more thing to say.

"Oh, and Kurt? I'm ready too." And then he was off, one thing on his mind: _shower, now._

* * *

><p>Precisely nine minutes later Blaine shook off his shorts and stepped into the shower stall, setting the right temperature and quickly rinsing irritating grains of sand from his skin and hair. Grabbing the shower gel – for this trip he secretly bought the same brand Kurt used, only to be able to remember his smell every day – he began to soap his body, his eyes closed and his mind back in Lima, in the bathroom he knew just as well as his own at home. Surrounded by the familiar smell, his body still strung high and wanting, Blaine recalled the phone call from the beach and his breathing hitched. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about his mom hearing him – this hotel didn't have studio rooms, so they took two separate ones this time.<p>

Blaine's soapy hand moved down his body and its slide over his hard cock made him moan loudly. Not thinking about anything but Kurt – Kurt's naked torso, his flushed, beautiful face, his voice, _oh god_ _his voice_, Blaine stroke himself, waves of pleasure flowing freely through his tense body. His body that, for the first time in months, didn't seem to have anything against his actions.

He knew it would be over ridiculously fast. He didn't mind. His hand speeding up, Blaine imagined his boyfriend who was standing under streams of water this very minute, naked, completely naked and gorgeous, and thinking of _him_. It was as if they were reaching to each other across the miles to be as close as they could. Kurt's words came back to him, clear and surprising, but so welcome. _I want you to touch me. I'm ready to go further_.

One more high moan and Blaine was spilling all over his hand and the shower door, leaning heavily against the tiles as his knees buckled and he slid down to sit on the floor. It felt like eternity of flashing light and pounding heart before the last aftershocks passed and he could stand up on trembling legs and get out of the shower.

* * *

><p>Minutes later, already dry and in his boxers, deliciously tired, Blaine got to his bed. Before he fell into deep, dreamless sleep, he sent one last text.<p>

_Oh. My. God. I love you. _

He knew Kurt would understand.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter:<strong> _Coming home_


	6. Coming home

**6. COMING HOME**

The next morning, over late breakfast, Blaine could feel his mom's eyes on him. When she finally spoke, she sounded worried.

"Baby, are you all right? You look tired."

"I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep last night, so I went for a walk along the beach and came back pretty late."

"How late is pretty late?"

"Um, half past four?" Plus the time he spent in the shower "with" Kurt. And he woke up early because he'd forgotten to reset his alarm, and spent some more time um… _thinking_ about last night, before he came down for breakfast. But his mother didn't need to know _those_ details. Blaine smiled quickly and dug into his fruit salad, trying to cover the blush that was creeping up his neck when he thought about it. "Don't worry, I'll nap later. Anyway, what do you want to do today?"

For a moment Blaine felt as if his mom was reading him like an open book as she sat, drinking her cappuccino, but then she nodded once and stood up.

"I have a plan; I'm sure it would improve your mood, but I need to go check if it's feasible. I'll come to your room when I get all the information, okay?"

"Sure." Blaine doubted any attractions would really lessen the longing for Kurt that was still flaring like an ache in his chest – nothing could, but he felt mildly intrigued anyway. Finishing his breakfast and going back up to the room, Blaine ran through possibilities in his head. When his mom found him on the balcony half an hour later, he had already created quite a list of possible scenarios. Some were actually fun, but the reality, it turned out, surpassed them all.

"Come on, pack up. Be ready to go in an hour."

Blaine raised his brow, surprised.

"What should I pack and for how long?"

"Everything, silly. We're going home." His mom smiled widely.

Blaine sat up so fast the deck chair folded under him and he landed gracelessly on his butt on the hard tiles. He hardly felt it, overwhelmed by emotions.

"Home? As in…"

"As in _Ohio_, do you remember us having any other homes?"

"But…"

His mom pet his hair, a soft smile on her lips.

"You miss Kurt too much to take pleasure in being here any longer. And I'll be glad to spend my remaining days off in my garden. I've never been a great fan of beaches anyway."

Blaine could feel his eyes sting; he couldn't believe that his mother would not only accept his boyfriend and their relationship, but actually cut short their vacations only to let him go back to the boy he loved and missed. Yet that was exactly what was happening. Blaine got to his feet and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you Mom... I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey."

* * *

><p>They were going to arrive in Columbus late at night and it was still a fair way from Lima, but Blaine couldn't imagine waiting another day, one <em>hour<em> more than he had to. Now that it was so close, the need to see and feel Kurt was so overwhelming it left no place for anything else. His mom agreed to drop him by Kurt's on the way home, if only Burt and Carole didn't have a problem with him visiting so late at night.

Blaine hadn't told Kurt he was coming back earlier – as much as he'd love to hear excitement and happy anticipation in Kurt's voice, he wanted to see his face brightened with surprise and delight even more. So he'd sent an email before leaving the hotel, saying – quite truthfully, really – that he was going for a trip with his mom and they wouldn't get anywhere near an internet connection till tomorrow, so he wouldn't be able to Skype Kurt today. He'd gotten no response by the time he switched off his laptop to put it in his carry-on, but it didn't matter. They would be _together_ soon.

Now Blaine just had to talk to Kurt's parents. He had a key to their house, he'd had it since June, when Burt had decided that Blaine needed one because he was there so often. He'd gotten permission to come in unannounced any time he wanted, but he felt it wouldn't be proper to just sneak in without a word in the middle of the night when he shouldn't even be back in the States yet. What if they thought he was a burglar? Besides, he promised his mom he'd make sure everyone was fine with it. _Well, everyone but Kurt_, Blaine thought excitedly, _Kurt can't know yet_.

Eventually, he decided to call Carole – she was the one more likely to keep a secret without dropping any hints that could clue Kurt in. Blaine had the conversation well planned before he even dialed the number.

As soon as he heard the sound of the connection, he blurted.

"Carole please don't say my name aloud."

There was a second of silence, then, "Okay?"

"Is Kurt within hearing distance?"

"Yes."

As if in confirmation, Kurt's voice sounded somewhere in the background, his tone irritated, and Blaine's heart leaped. Maybe he should just tell him now, make his day brighter? But he resisted the temptation – he had a _plan_. So he just asked Carole instead,

"Can you go somewhere where he won't be able to hear you?"

"Yes, of course. Wait a moment, sir, let me go and check."

Blaine could hear her steps on the stairs, the familiar creaking of the floor of the upstairs landing, then the sound of a closing door before Carole spoke again.

"Okay, I'm far enough. Why the secrecy?"

"I don't want to spoil a surprise – we're coming home right now, a bit earlier than planned, and I don't want Kurt to know till I arrive. Can you keep it a secret?"

Blaine could practically _hear_ Carole's delighted smile.

"Of course. Oh, it's wonderful news, you can't _imagine_ how it feels here lately. It's like there's a massive storm cloud in the house. Wait, is that why you're not calling him on the computer tonight?"

"Yes. Is he mad?"

"No, he's depressed. Muttering something about stupid impulsive ideas, whatever that means. He's wearing _sweats_, can you believe it?"

Blaine hissed. Sweats were bad. _Really_ bad.

"Oh, ouch. Keep holding on, it'll be over by tomorrow. Carole, the problem is we'll be back late; very late, way after midnight. Do you think… could I come over anyway? I know it's the middle of the night and probably inappropriate, and maybe the few hours until morning don't seem like much -"

She interrupted him heatedly.

"Nonsense, darling, of course they must seem like a lifetime to you right now. You can come whenever you want to. Do you happen to have your key on you? It would be easiest if you just let yourself in."

"I have it. You really don't mind?"

He could hear the smile in her voice and he knew she meant it.

"Of course not. You need each other, I get it. I'll make sure nobody knows until the morning."

"Thank you. You're the best. I'll slip in quietly, just please make sure Burt doesn't jump out with a shotgun if I make any noise after all."

"Don't worry, just as long as you won't make Kurt scream in surprise, Burt probably won't hear a thing. He sleeps like a log; but don't tell him you know."

They both chuckled lightly and said goodbye, and Blaine went to join his mom in the waiting area, his heart singing, because _Kurt_, he was going to see Kurt, _tonight_.

* * *

><p>The single key in his hand was sweaty as Blaine collected his carry-on bag from the back seat, said goodbye to his mom and got to the front door of the sleeping house. His heart was pounding, his skin thrumming with happy anticipation. He hadn't been so close to Kurt in almost three weeks. He couldn't wait to see his beautiful face again.<p>

The hall light was on when Blaine slipped quietly in, locking the door behind him. The house welcomed him like an old friend, its smells and sounds comfortably familiar, and Blaine smiled widely. He felt like he was coming back home.

He was sweaty after the long journey, his clothes crumpled and his hair flattened in places. It was not how he wanted Kurt to see him after such a long time. Taking off his trainers, he was just wondering if taking a quick shower downstairs was out of the question in the middle of the night when he heard quiet footsteps and Carole came down, in her pajamas and with sleep-lined face.

"I thought I heard the door open." She smiled widely and hugged Blaine, who returned the hug happily. "Oh my, you're all tanned. I'm so happy you're back safe. I bet you're tired after the flight?"

"I'm fine, and so happy to be back, just stiff and feeling gross after all those hours on the plane."

"You can shower here before you go up to bed; don't worry, nobody will hear you." She smiled with understanding, clearly having fun with this conspiracy. "Would you like anything to eat? Some tea?"

Blaine shook his head. Eating, drinking, _breathing_ could wait. He wouldn't wait one _minute_ more than absolutely necessary.

"No, thank you. I'll just shower and go to get some sleep."

Carole just nodded, said goodnight and went back upstairs, tactfully silent about the fact that she must have known just as well as he did how improbable it was they would actually _sleep_ when Kurt woke up in a moment.

Blaine rushed through showering and five minutes later he was ready, in his pajama pants and a t-shirt, his hair falling in a mess of damp curls on his forehead. It felt absurd, but here, now, so close to seeing Kurt again, he felt the longing more than ever; squeezing his chest, making it hard to breathe. It was like all the time he had missed Kurt was concentrated into this moment when he was almost close enough to reach and touch.

Resisting the urge to run up the stairs at full speed, Blaine took his bag and snuck up, barefoot, step by painfully slow step, until Kurt's half open door stood before him like an invitation. An invitation he could not refuse, obviously. He slipped through the door, closed it noiselessly behind him and leaving his bag there, made the last few steps that shared him from the bed. And the world stood still; or maybe it was just Blaine's heart. Because there he was – asleep and perfect, curled on his side, his torso bare and his hand hanging over the edge of the bed. _Kurt_.

All love he felt for this boy filled Blaine chest so full he thought it would burst as he dropped to his knees at the side of the bed, just inches from Kurt's relaxed face. His plan was to wake him up with a kiss, but now he couldn't tear his eyes away, happy just looking at him, sharing the same space, breathing the same air.

After just a moment Kurt stirred, however, and whispered _Blaine? _into the soft darkness of the room. Clearly half-asleep still, he reached his hand out and Blaine took it, the hand he dreamed of holding in every city and every street he'd been to in Italy, and suddenly the world was right again. It was like everything fell back in its place. He felt complete. Barely holding in the tears, he whispered, "I'm here" and leaned in.

Kurt fell into the kiss immediately, easily, but it took all of three seconds – _three seconds in heaven_, Blaine thought – before he gasped and stiffened, his eyes opening wide, fully conscious now. Blaine withdrew quickly and put his finger on his lips, prompting him to be silent. When he reached to switch on the bedside lamp, Kurt looked at him like he saw a ghost. A very welcome ghost, but a ghost nonetheless, his reaction somewhere between terror and ecstatic disbelief. Before he could utter any sound, however, Blaine spoke quickly.

"I'm back early, I had to see you. God, I've missed you so much."

It must have been enough to convince Kurt that what he saw in the middle of the night in his bedroom wasn't some sort of hallucination, but really, truly his boyfriend. For a moment he looked like he might jump out of bed and fall into Blaine's arms – a _very _nice prospect, if you asked the owner of said arms – but then he startled, his hand flying to his hair, the other pulling the sheets up higher as he sat up.

"Oh my god, Blaine! Why didn't you tell me you'd be here tonight? I'm totally unprepared! I must look terrible!"

Blaine just smiled widely.

"Oh hi, it's so good to see you too! And you look absolutely _amazing_."

He stood up and sat on the edge of the bed instead, reaching to pull his beautiful, _beautiful _boyfriend into another kiss. But Kurt wouldn't budge. _Weird_, Blaine's fantasy about this moment included definitely more kissing.

"Blaine, no, I have morning breath."

"No you don't, it's not morning yet. And even if you did, I wouldn't mind in the slightest, you know that."

Kurt whined.

"But I would and you know _that_. I'll just go and brush my teeth and I'll be right back." He made a move to pull the sheets aside and froze. "Or… maybe not."

"Great! Then get over here, I was hoping for a _real _kiss."

Kurt was clearly torn, looking frantically between the covers and the bathroom. Finally he asked, his voice pleading.

"Is there any way to convince you to wait outside while I get up and go to the bathroom? Or at least to close your eyes?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"Why? Are you naked?" Kurt blushed furiously, but shook his head, and Blaine almost groaned. Why would he ask that? Why the hell would he ask such a question when he was in the bedroom with his boyfriend, in the middle of the night, after almost three weeks of separation? The boyfriend whom his imagination had no trouble picturing vividly after having to do without him for so long? He spoke quickly to cover his reaction.

"So why? I've seen you without a shirt, remember? And I've really, _really_ missed you, so don't make me miss a minute more."

Clearly resigned, Kurt sighed and pulled down the covers, revealing the lower half of his body clad in…

"Kurt, are those my pajama pants?"

"Um, yes?" Kurt was blushing and wouldn't look up at him. "I just… I missed you so much and they're soft and _yours_ and…"

He couldn't finish because Blaine pulled him into a tight hug, burrowing his nose in the crook between his neck and shoulder, inhaling the familiar smell that was so essentially _Kurt_. His boyfriend melted into the embrace, muttering into Blaine's neck.

"I know, it's stupid."

"No silly, it's adorable." Reluctantly, he let go. "Go brush your teeth if you insist. I want to kiss you. I'll _die_ if I don't kiss you. _Go_."

Kurt staggered out of bed and almost ran to the bathroom, and Blaine decided he might as well lie down. Knowing Kurt, it would take him longer than the necessary two minutes – he'd want to fix his hair at least. Stretching out on his usual side of the bed, Blaine sighed with delight. Oh, how he'd missed this room, this bed. There were so many memories connected with it. Most of them good, perfect even.

Yes, he'd been here right after the worst night of his life, but it had been a sanctuary, a safe place. And it was here that Kurt had held him and sung to him when the darkness threatened to swallow him up. It was here that they'd had their first kiss and where they confessed their feelings for the first time. They'd spent so much time here since then – talking, laughing, crying, kissing, touching, cuddling to sleep… There weren't many places in the world that had such positive connotations in Blaine's mind.

He didn't have much time to think and remember though, because much sooner than he expected the bathroom door clicked and then Kurt was _flying _towards him, his hair still a glorious mess, a smudge of toothpaste on his cheek and wild happiness across his face. He looked as if he might squeal and Blaine was worried for a fraction of a second, but then all worry flew out of him along with his breath as, with a _thump_, Kurt landed on him and showered him with kisses, whispering frantically in between.

"I can't believe you're really here, I think it just hit me. I've been so worried! I thought I freaked you out last night, that you woke up and decided you couldn't talk to me because maybe it was stupid or awkward or too forward or..."

Blaine silenced him with a kiss; straight on his lips, deep and passionate and _exactly_ what he needed – what they both needed, judging by the moan that ripped out of Kurt's throat. Blaine shushed him urgently, rolling them over so that he hovered over Kurt now. And then they fell into each other again, lips and hands checking carefully if time apart didn't do any damage, didn't change them, if they still remembered every single detail. So close, so real at last, reveling in the hushed moans and silent gasps, rapid breathing and racing heartbeats.

The slide of the tongues, breaths stuttering and unimportant. Kurt's lips catching on Blaine's stubble, the naked skin of his chest hot and electrifying under Blaine's fingertips. Kurt's cock, hard and insistent and _there_, right under Blaine's thigh. Kurt's fingers tangled tightly in Blaine's hair as they instinctively pressed closer, and his high keen, sounding exactly like last night in the phone, and Blaine's blood _boiled_.

He rolled off Kurt quickly, before his body had a chance to protest, and whispered against the sweet smelling neck.

"Can you be _really_ quiet?"

Kurt's eyes looked a little wild as he nodded hesitantly; as soon as Blaine's fingertips danced lightly around his nipple though, he gasped. Blaine smiled mischievously before licking a long stripe up the pale, arched neck.

"Kurt, you need to do better than this if you want me to continue…" – butterfly kiss to the pulse point - "doing…" – deep kiss right under the ear - "this…" – sucking on the spot between neck and shoulder that made Kurt shiver and whimper.

He could feel it was driving Kurt crazy, his muscles all tensing, eyes squeezed shut and his hand clenching Blaine's t-shirt, but he was quiet now, only his labored breathing loud in the room. Keeping his eyes focused on the beautiful face he'd missed so much, Blaine sat up by Kurt's side and took his hand. Gently, lovingly, he started kissing each fingertip; just a hint of tongue touching as he did was enough to make Kurt bite on his lower lip, already dark pink and swollen from the kissing. Blaine continued calmly, kissing the warm center of Kurt's palm, the pulse point on his wrist, licking his way up; reveling in Kurt's smell and taste, the softness of his skin, in every quiet sigh. By the time he reached the crook of his elbow, Kurt was panting helplessly. All the way up to the shoulder. Laving and sucking slowly, leisurely on one nipple, then the other. Down his stomach, inch by inch. Kurt was writhing already, his knuckles white where he gripped the sheets, his back arching, his head thrashing. His voice was absolutely broken when he whispered urgently.

"Blaine, I want you to touch me. Please, just touch me now, _please_…"

Blaine's hand that was ghosting around Kurt's bellybutton seemed to react by itself, sliding towards the waist of his pants, crossing this last boundary and before Blaine realized what was happening, there was only a thin layer of cotton pants between his hand and the hard, hot, solid _object_ that was Kurt's _cock_. It felt like his hand belonged there perfectly, his fingers curled lightly over the shaft; unable to resist, Blaine stroke slowly up and down – once, twice…

It was enough. Kurt's keen muffled by his own hand he bit on, his cock pulsed under Blaine's fingers as he kept moving them over and over, turned on, fascinated, awed… _He_ did that. _He_ made Kurt fall apart under his hand, made him feel _good_. It was beyond anything Blaine had ever imagined. It was breathtaking.

After a moment Blaine took his palm from the front of Kurt's pants and lay back down to pull his boyfriend into a kiss. When they parted, Kurt was still breathless and a little dazed, but his flush looked more like the result of embarrassment than passion now.

"Sorry. Was it too much? I know we wanted to talk about it first…"

Blaine smiled.

"No, it was just right. And we did talk, last night on the phone. So if you don't regret it, well, neither do I."

"Oh god, _thank_ you. That was…"

"_So_ hot." Blaine admitted.

"_Amazing_. Come on, let me..." Kurt leaned over him now, kissing, his hand resting on Blaine's hip for a breathtaking second and then coming down, closer, ever closer, until…

_Uh-oh._

Blaine stilled Kurt's hand a bit too rapidly.

"Um, maybe not tonight? You're sleepy now, I can tell, and I'm tired too; we have time. It's enough novelty for one night, don't you think?"

Kurt murmured in assent, then sat up.

"Okay, I'll go clean myself up and change my pants, and we can cuddle to sleep. You have no idea how I've missed it…"

"Oh, I think I do."

Minutes later, with Kurt breathing evenly in his embrace, Blaine felt peaceful and happy, drifting off to sleep. The one uneasy thought that kept nibbling on his brain wouldn't spoil it. Not tonight. Not when he was back at last.

He'd think about it tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter:<strong> _Confused_


	7. Confused

**A/N: **_Just a reminder – Kurt and Blaine in this trilogy are both high school seniors. Because that's what seemed to be the case when I was writing the first part. And it's still my headcanon, no matter what._

* * *

><p>7. CONFUSED<p>

By the middle of October, Kurt had gone from confused, through anxious, to seriously worried. Something was wrong, but with Blaine changing the topic whenever he tried to talk about it, Kurt felt lost and unsure how to proceed, what to do to help and how not to screw it all up.

At first he thought the stress of being at a new school, _public_ school again, was getting to Blaine, but no, it actually went better than Kurt expected - than he'd anxiously anticipated. With Karofsky gone, the rest of the jocks were suddenly much more subdued, no longer openly bullying anyone, and Blaine, just like Kurt, had long ago learned not to pay attention to slurs and hateful words flying in their direction. Enough time had passed that between the therapy and the peaceful summer Blaine no longer showed symptoms of PTSD. His immediate acceptance into the New Directions and being already well-liked by everyone there helped. Having Finn, Puck and Santana among his closest friends didn't hurt either.

So no, school wasn't the problem. Blaine seemed happy there. His was good at home too, his parents much more present in his life than last year, not to mention accepting for a change. This didn't leave much to blame the problem on, actually – nothing but the obvious. If it wasn't home or school, it had to be something about their relationship, although Kurt had no idea what it was. Most of the time everything was perfect, but then, out of the blue, it suddenly wasn't. And Kurt could handle his own confusion and anxiety, but he could see how frustrated Blaine was getting about it, which was the final push, the last straw that made him look for help where he did.

He approached his dad in the garage late Monday afternoon, when everyone else had already left. This was a conversation he wanted to keep between the two of them. Sitting by the table in the small office where his dad was going through the orders, Kurt turned what he wanted to say over in his head, around and around, looking for the best way to phrase it. Finally he decided to just go for it.

"Dad? I need to ask you for something."

"If it's about that winter coat you don't need that costs way more than a sane man would pay, then the answer is still no."

"No… It's something else."

Something in Kurt's voice must have betrayed him, because his dad looked at him with concern.

"Everything alright, kiddo?"

"Yes. Or… no, not really. Dad, can I make an appointment with Blaine's therapist?" He saw panic flash in his father's kind, patient eyes, so he added quickly. "No, no, it's not about me, you have nothing to worry about. It's just… I don't know how to help him sometimes, how to talk to him, you know? He has these moments… Nothing serious, just… I guess if I talked about it with someone who specializes in work with people who've had this kind of trauma, I wouldn't be so afraid to do something wrong, hurt him…"

His dad nodded slowly. If he'd guessed what kind of moments Kurt was talking about, he didn't show it.

"Of course you can make an appointment. Do you want me to find her number?"

"No, I already kind of… borrowed her card from Blaine's desk and wrote it down. I just wanted your permission."

"Sure. Go ahead. But… Kurt, if there was something serious going on, with you _or_ Blaine, you'd tell me, right?"

Kurt smiled softly and got up to hug his dad.

"Of course I would, dad. I promise."

* * *

><p>Sitting in the elegant, soothing room now, in a comfortable armchair, it all felt so much more real. More serious than just a couple of relationship questions, more adult and mature. For a moment, Kurt felt like a silly teenager making a mountain out of a molehill, but then he chastised himself: it <em>was<em> serious and adult and mature. What happened to Blaine was not a teenage prank; it was stuff that many adults couldn't cope with for years. The fact that Blaine seemed to be dealing with it so well was a blessing and evidence of his strength and bravery. Wanting to help him and not ruin all of Blaine's efforts was not just some silly notion.

The kind looking, middle aged woman sitting opposite Kurt – Bonnie Etcher – smiled encouragingly. She was plump and pretty, and her grey eyes looked at him without any judgment or reservations, waiting for him to speak. He sighed and began.

"I'm Blaine Anderson's boyfriend." Her expression remained neutral, open, but the smallest change in her eyes made Kurt add quickly. "I know you won't tell me anything about his therapy, or even confirm that he's your patient, but that's all right, that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here, Kurt?"

"I need…" he braced himself; he'd rehearsed what he wanted to say dozens of times during the days since his phone call, but actually saying it _to someone_, a stranger, was still tough. Kurt straightened his back, took a deep breath; _enough of this nonsense, I need this talk. We need it_. Looking Bonnie in the eyes, more boldly than he felt, he said it. "I need to talk about issues related to being intimate with a rape survivor."

The therapist nodded.

"First of all, I'm glad you're using the term survivor and not victim. It's a small, but important detail. Second of all, you know I can't confirm or deny that your boyfriend is or ever was my patient, so let me ask you: when you're saying rape survivor, you mean him, yes?"

"Yes."

"How much do you know about his assault?"

Kurt shuddered at the memory.

"_Everything_. I was there with him when he gave his statement to the police. I know every detail. I held him in my arms after countless nightmares and supported him every step of the way, from the very beginning. I saw his injuries, I know his triggers and how to soothe him. I know it all. But now we've started on the road... um, towards something more... physical? And I _don't_ know, and he won't talk, and I'm afraid to hurt him, or make it worse. That's why I need help."

"Intimacy, physical closeness can be very difficult after sexual trauma. It's good that you recognize this. Tell me more about your sex life." Seeing Kurt's evident discomfort and furious blush, she added. "It's all right. You know that everything you say here is confidential."

"I know. It's not that. I'm just… not used to talking about this. It's all new for me. You see, Blaine's my first boyfriend, so... But yes, I know it's necessary. Okay. So… We've been together for over half a year now, and from the very beginning we've decided to take it as slow as we needed. This suited us both, it took some time before we even started kissing, and up till recently we were doing just this, only more and, um… not just lips. But now we've gone a step further into touching um… below the belt… over clothes. And that's when the problem first started."

"Okay, tell me more about the problem."

"We are both ready for this. I _know_ we are, we'd talked about it before and several times since then, and I can see Blaine wants it, he's absolutely certain. But the first time, I touched him and he jerked back, away from me. And I thought it was maybe because I didn't ask first, that he was surprised, even though he saw what I was doing. So I stopped and left it at that. The next time I waited until he asked me to touch him. Begged me, actually." Kurt felt his face burn with the intense blush at the memory. "And yet, as soon as I touched his…_him_, he was off the bed. He said he didn't know why, it was instinct, and he really wanted it, so we kept going, but… but… He told me to touch him again, and I did, and I could see he was trying hard not to flinch, and he went… um… soft. Under my hand."

"That must have been awkward for both of you."

"It was. But we're good at awkward. We talked a little and even laughed at the end, talking about first time nerves… But since then… That was at the beginning of September. And ever since then, Blaine either avoids going that far at all or…"

"Or?"

"Or um…" Kurt wasn't sure if he'd ever been as flustered before, but he was determined to push through. "Twice he took care of himself while touching me. Presumably by accident, just… pressing against me or the bed, but Blaine really can't lie, so I _know _it was no accident and I don't know what to think… And before you ask, I don't _mind_ waiting, I'll give him all the time in the world if that's what he needs. I'd be just fine with doing nothing sexual at all. But it's not that Blaine isn't ready, you know? He is. When he flinches, there's no panic or discomfort or anything like that, it's like a reflex, the way you instinctively take your hand away from fire. And this is breaking him; he avoids the topic lately, he's guarded, more distant with me. I can see how frustrated he is when he _wants_ and he's _fine_ with it, and then it's like his body rebels."

"Body memory."

Kurt looked up from his hands that were easier to talk to about these things than an actual human being. Bonnie was looking at him calmly.

"Excuse me?"

"It's called body memory. The mind has already processed the rape, it's over it and okay with what's happening, rationally everything is fine, but the body remembers – the unwanted touches or the pain, and it reacts instinctively. Can you think of anything that could cause this particular reaction?"

Kurt remembered those torturous hours at the police station, holding Blaine's hand and listening to him describing what that sick bastard had done to him. The pain in his chest was still there, even after all these months, at the image of someone, _anyone_ hurting the boy Kurt loved. He didn't like to be reminded, but now he carefully searched through the tear-soaked memories for something that could relate to Blaine's recent reactions.

And there it was. The moment before the rape, when nothing had seemed wrong yet and Eric had touched Blaine only to realize he really hadn't been turned on or interested in going further than kissing. That was the fine line between seduction and assault; the point after which everything went wrong.

No wonder his body remembered.

"Yes. I know exactly what it must have been." Kurt's voice was shaky. "So what can I do about it?"

"Not much, I'm afraid, apart from accepting it. It may pass with time, or maybe it will always be a trigger. For now, the best solution would be to leave this particular way of touching alone. Try to find a way around it. Do what's comfortable for both of you. And don't worry too much about it, Kurt. You're doing a great job. Blaine must feel really safe with you and comfortable with this slow, steady progress, judging from what you're telling me. It's a big achievement, Kurt. I wish every rape or assault survivor had such a supportive, understanding partner."

Kurt felt himself blush for entirely different reason now, his eyes a little teary.

"You really think so?"

"Yes. Just keep doing what you've been doing all along: talk. Communicate. Take things at your own speed. Always ask if he's ready, if it's okay, never assume anything. Let him be in control when you try new things, encourage him to talk, to guide you whenever he needs it. There are times when it may seem like something's wrong – certain positions may be a trigger for example. There may be moments when he needs to stop in the middle of perfectly delightful sexual activity, even if everything is going smoothly. Or he may cry. It's normal, it's nothing bad, these are all coping mechanisms. Just be open to his needs and your own, and communicate, and you'll both be fine."

Kurt sighed and nodded, grateful. It sounded reasonable and, more importantly, gave him back hope.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>A week passed before they found themselves alone in Blaine's empty house, his parents away on business again. They were supposed to go back to Kurt's in the evening, but they had a few hours to themselves before that and Kurt had every intention of using this time wisely. He just <em>missed<em> Blaine, physically; missed his touch, his frantic heartbeat under Kurt's fingers and sweaty-slick skin of his neck during their more passionate make outs. He missed Blaine's breathy moans that meant he was close, and his trembling fingers on Kurt's skin. They didn't have much time lately, with school and family obligations, Glee and the school musical, and Blaine's newly acquired reluctance to be touched didn't help either.

But Kurt had his ways. He'd learned a lot in the time they were together, and had long since stopped doubting his own ability to shamelessly turn Blaine on in a matter of minutes. And he fully intended to use that power. Because if Blaine stubbornly avoided talking about the obvious problem, Kurt had no choice but to try and solve it by himself. Only if Blaine agreed, of course.

Kurt wasn't the only hormonal teenage boy in the room, so it didn't take long at all before they were both half-naked on Blaine's bed, Kurt on top and showing Blaine just how much he loved touching him, kissing, being close and intimate and together like this. And from there, it was only moments until Blaine's whimper ended with broken, raw _Oh god, Kurt, I want you so bad_.

And since Kurt had thought this through and knew perfectly well what he wanted to try, this was just the moment he'd hoped for. He slid off to the side, smoothed his hand down his boyfriend's stomach – low, lower, until his fingertips touched the elastic waistband of Blaine's yoga pants... and then slid slowly under, just a tiny bit. Blaine's breathing was rapidly changing into panting, his back arching off the bed. Kurt leaned into a soft kiss and whispered against the other boy's kiss-puffed lips.

"May I?"

The answer was immediate, high and breathless.

"_Yes. Yesyesyes._"

And then it was just Kurt's hand on the hot, velvet-soft skin of _Blaine's cock_. It was slick moisture on the tip smeared over by Kurt's thumb and the perfect weight in his firm grip, and his heart beating like crazy to the sound of _KurtKurtKurt_ repeated in reverent whisper until Blaine shuddered and keened, and pulsed with release over Kurt's fingers. And he couldn't help moaning too, because it was almost better than coming himself, the realization that he could do this to Blaine. _For_ Blaine. That he could make him feel so good. And that he did it, he'd found a way around a triggering memory.

Holding Blaine tightly, Kurt waited through the aftershocks to see his amber eyes open and smile at him.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Hands-on_


	8. Hands on

**8. HANDS-ON**

When Blaine opened his eyes, there was so much in them that Kurt's breath hitched – an awed smile, surprised thankfulness, relief and raw love. Blaine turned so that they were lying face to face and stroked his thumb over Kurt's cheek. His voice was rough and silently reverent when he spoke.

"Kurt. This…" he tried to say more, his lips moving over half-formed words, but no sound came. Finally he shook his head incredulously. "Just. Kurt."

Kurt smiled, happiness bubbling in his chest and making his heart stutter.

"It's the good type of speechless, I hope?" He teased to cover how moved he was by what had just happened; besides the obvious amazing, erotic, first-time layer – there were so many feelings there, so much unspoken significance to this moment.

"The best." Blaine blinked and a single tear slid down his tilted face. "How did you know what to _do_? I mean, how to deal with my stupid block or whatever it was? _I _didn't know. I was sure that's it, that I can't… I won't…"

Kurt reached out to intertwine his fingers – wiped with a moist toilette in the meantime; he'd come prepared, thank you very much – with Blaine's. He'd decided days ago that he wouldn't tell his boyfriend about the visit to see his therapist, not yet. One day, yes. But now, when their intimacy was so fresh and fragile and complicated, he was afraid to add another aspect, to increase Blaine's vulnerability even further by admitting he'd disturbed his safe place, so to speak. He still wasn't sure if it was the right decision – the not telling, not the visit, because _that_ was absolutely brilliant – even after he'd spent quite a while debating it in his head, but he'd decided to stand by it.

"Lucky guess, I think. I realized something was stopping you even though you felt ready, so I thought about your police statement and what you described. I was looking for something similar maybe that might have given you some sort of um… bad connotation with touching like this? And well, there it was. So I decided to try an approach that would be a bit different."

"Oh…" Blaine's face was so stunned that Kurt understood immediately he hadn't made the connection himself. His next words confirmed it. "Oh god, so _that's_ why, that makes so much sense… Thank you Kurt, for thinking clearly instead of figuring it was hopeless, like I did. Just… thank you. For everything."

Blaine's grip on his hand was tight now and his eyes filled with tears, but Kurt pushed on. They needed to set some ground rules – it couldn't be like this every time they hit a bump in the road. He spoke carefully, choosing his words so that he didn't sound the least bit judgmental or nagging, but concerned and loving instead.

"You know, I might have realized all of this a lot sooner and saved us both weeks of anxiety if you'd actually told me what was going on and not made me guess. Why didn't you, anyway?"

Blaine looked away, ashamed.

"I was afraid. At first I hoped I'd be able to fix it by myself somehow, and then I was just scared to lose you. I reasoned that as long as I could hide it and you didn't realize that I'm basically incapable-"

Kurt shook his head, incredulous.

"Blaine, what are you talking about? You're not incapable!"

"Well what would you call losing your hard-on when your boyfriend touches you? I was afraid that one day you'd realize you couldn't have a happy, fulfilling sex life with me. I thought that maybe you'd reconsider… being with me."

Kurt answered without the slightest hesitation, and he could see Blaine's eyes widen at his fierce tone even before the words registered.

"Blaine? Let's make one thing crystal clear right now. _I love you_. I will love you no matter what. I knew what you've been through and what that could mean from the very beginning, don't you realize? I would love you even if our whole sex life consisted of kissing you and touching your hand, and cuddling in bed. Well, and jerking off sometimes. I _wouldn't mind_, do you understand? I have no expectations, never had, and every step further is a gift that I appreciate so much but have never taken for granted. So please, if anything, _anything_ at all ever triggers you, worries you, doesn't feel right or whatever, just _tell_ me. Please, promise you'll tell me, Blaine. We can deal with anything, together, but we need to _talk_. Always talk. About everything. _Please_."

Blaine's lips were on his the next instant, insistent and salty wet with tears that seemed to come out of nowhere. He whispered into Kurt's mouth, against the skin of his temple, his neck, repeated again and again.

"I promise. I promise. I swear we will talk, always. I love you. _So_ much."

They were still half-naked and spread out on Blaine's bed, so it only took a moment for Kurt to end up gasping and strung tight under Blaine, his hands, his lips; submissive and open to the feverish kisses, fleeting touches, words murmured urgently into his skin as if to tattoo it with all the love his voice could convey. Kurt's cock, which had calmed down and behaved during their conversation, reacted instantly to Blaine's touch and was now straining uncomfortably within the confines of Kurt's tight jeans.

It was pure torture in fact, and Kurt was secretly cursing himself for his affinity to such perfectly fitted pants. Sure, they looked amazing, but proved to be extremely impractical in situations like this. He wanted them _off_ now. Or at least _opened_.

As if reading his mind – and it wouldn't be the first time – Blaine chose this moment to slide his hand over the clearly outlined bulge in his pants, and Kurt couldn't suppress a shameless moan that ripped from his throat. Blaine's fingers were trembling as he mapped out the never before crossed boundary of Kurt's waistband, his voice gravelly when he finally asked.

"Kurt, can I… just… under-"

"I thought you'd never ask," Kurt breathed; but it proved to be more difficult than that.

His pants didn't provide enough space to fit a hand under without cutting off circulation, so the only solution was opening the buttons of Kurt's fly, which they finally got to among giggles that blew away any awkwardness and nerves. But the moment Blaine's fingers slid over the only remaining layer of cotton while opening the last two buttons, Kurt's laughter turned into a gasp and his back arched. Oh god, if he was so crazily turned on already, what would happen when it was skin on skin? Surely this would be the shortest handjob in history.

He was proven wrong seconds later, when – despite his fears – he didn't fall apart at the first touch of Blaine's warm, slightly rough hand on his cock. Or at least, not physically. His mind though – it was completely blown. The warmth encompassing him, the gentle, hesitant grip, so different from his own, the fingers thicker, callused; the drag of skin against skin when Blaine started to move his hand, and the look of complete, unrestrained awe on Blaine's face…

It was all so much, almost _too _much, but… The damn waistband of his briefs kept getting in the way. Kurt wasn't particularly small and the tight briefs just weren't designed for these circumstances. He hissed when the elastic dug into the sensitive head of his cock again. Blaine froze.

"Sorry, I'm sorry."

The sheepish look on his face might have been funny if Kurt wasn't so aroused it was almost painful. He took Blaine's hand and moved it away, the debate in his head over almost as soon as it began. Self-conscious vs. achingly turned on? Uncomfortable vs. exposed? There was really no hesitation to speak of. Not when he was with Blaine. Kurt looked up at his boyfriend, whose face looked shattered now. He shook his head quickly.

"No! No, Blaine, it's okay, it's amazing, just… Would you mind if I-" he gestured at his underwear, strained over his raging hard-on, a wet spot right under the elastic that compressed him so frustratingly.

There was a second of confusion before Blaine caught his meaning, but when he did, his eyes got _huge_ and he licked his lips unconsciously. Finally, he found his voice again.

"No, go on, I don't mind, of course I don't."

It took all of Kurt's self-control to ask.

"Are you sure? Honestly, Blaine, please. Talking, remember?"

Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurt's briefs with visible effort and looked up, his eyes still dazed, but more present now.

"Yes. I'm sure. I want to see you. Please let me see you?"

The pleading in Blaine's voice made Kurt shiver with need. Not wasting another second, he reached for the waistband of his underwear and pulled it down. A bit of wiggling and it was lowered halfway to his hips, along with his pants, so that nothing pinched or dug into the sensitive flesh anymore. The relief when his cock sprang free was unbelievable, so much so that for an instant he forgot he wasn't alone. A sharp gasp brought him back.

Blaine was staring; there was no other word for it, but the look on his face made any budding insecurity in Kurt's mind disappear. Blaine's eyes were blown almost black, the amber irises barely visible. He was flushed and his mouth hung half-open. He reached and ran his fingertips along the shaft of Kurt's cock, from his exposed balls to the leaking tip, making him whimper in needy anticipation. _The touch of the fingertips _is_ as sexy as it gets_, flew through Kurt's head out of nowhere. It was immediately lost in the pounding of his heart and his own keening when Blaine closed his hand around him again, unrestrained by fabric now and free to move, swiping his thumb over the tip.

It took only a minute or two – of fluid, increasingly bold strokes, of tingling heat spreading up and over, from Kurt's belly to his fingertips; of his back arching, his head thrashing, his hands fisted tightly in the duvet. His hips were stuttering, pushing into Blaine's perfect, perfect grip, heat coiling tighter and tighter in his abdomen until he exploded, moaning loudly, unable to stop the sounds, unable to even try. Wave after wave, pulsing, shuddering, seemingly never ending, longer and stronger than any orgasm in his life.

Coming down from the high in Blaine's arms was one of the best feelings he'd known. He'd missed this in the last weeks – not even the sexual part so much, just being close, Blaine so open and unguarded, no longer holding back. Kurt sighed happily and nudged his nose against the soft skin of his boyfriend's neck. Blaine hummed and pulled him closer still, and it felt so good, this safe little bubble of love. So perfect. They lay like this for long minutes, just soaking each other's warmth, smell, touch.

"I missed you." Kurt shifted finally to look Blaine in the eyes, and found them bright, happy. "Please, don't do this ever again, Blaine. Don't push me away, don't shut me out."

Blaine shook his head, his face earnest. "I won't, I promise. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"I want us to be able to share everything, talk about anything. I_ need _you to talk to me, Blaine. Do you have any idea how scared I am sometimes? I'm afraid that I'll hurt you, do something that will traumatize you and set you back, that I'll unwittingly trigger you. I can't always guess, I need you to communicate what you want and what you feel, baby. Is that all right? I want you to take control and set a pace that's comfortable for you because now that we've started on this path, there's going to be so much more risk – of miscommunication, making the wrong assumptions, hurt."

"If I take control when I need it, will you tell me if something isn't right for you?"

"I will. I promise."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Blaine felt like he was walking on air ever since that November day. After weeks of fear and misery weighing him down, this was like a curse lifted, like dark clouds parting to reveal blue skies and bright sunshine. He wanted to sing and dance and shout from the rooftops that he had the best. Boyfriend. Ever. And that he loved him <em>so<em> much.

Everything was enjoyable. Every Glee practice meant endless opportunities to laugh and talk with friends and hold Kurt's hand sometimes despite the other people around them. The school musical they both played secondary roles in turned out to be a great success. Their parents took them to Breadstix to celebrate after the last performance, and there was a moment when Blaine felt like it had to be a dream because he was living his perfect dream life now. He had everything he's dreamed of: love, family, friends, singing and performing, bright future to look forward to… It was only after he came home that night when he remembered that in perfect dream lives teenage boys don't usually get raped, but surprisingly, the thought didn't spoil his mood.

Even filling out college applications was amazing, because they did it together, Kurt and him, sitting side by side in the school library and then in Kurt's room, trading fleeting smiles and knowing glances with sparkling eyes. They knew, _knew_ they were going to New York, together. Wherever they ended up, no matter which school it was, New York was their shared future.

And it was magical to imagine and plan together, once the finished applications waited on Kurt's vanity to be posted, and they lay on the bed, face to face, hands entwined and smiles dazzling. To know that if nothing unpredictable happened, soon – almost too soon and yet so painfully long still – they will lie together in another bed in a far away city, a bed that they'll get to call _theirs_, in a tiny apartment that they will share like so many other things. Their space, their time and food and utilities, their _lives. _Together. Under one roof.

They hadn't talked to their parents about living together, not yet; not wanting to jinx it somehow before the letters of acceptance came. But they discussed it and they were both ready to convince their families, to fight for it, if necessary. In this new, exciting, yet a bit scary world of college and New York, they would need each other more than ever.

* * *

><p>Sectionals came and went, and Tina's breathtaking solo, followed by an explosive group number, ensured that they qualified for Regionals. Blaine felt such a connection with these people now that he could hardly remember not knowing and loving them before. Sure, Warblers would always be like brothers to him, a small, supportive army of strong voices and caring hearts, somewhat formal, bound by their rules and upbringing, but wonderful nonetheless.<p>

With New Directions, it was something else. Each person in this group was different, each was special in their own way. They argued and fought, then they talked and laughed and loved each other. Their dynamics seemed to change daily; alliances, friendships and relationships came and went. It was crazy and dysfunctional, but it felt weirdly like a family, being a part of it. It felt like being accepted for who he was. And Blaine was grateful for this, for them, every single day.

Time flew, filled with school and Glee, family and friends. Suddenly it was Christmas, which they spent separately with their families, each reveling in their last holidays at home while they actually lived there.

New Year's was celebrated at Mercedes' with a wonderful New Directions party. They danced, sang and had a lot of fun despite being the only ones who chose to drink only a symbolic sip of champagne each. Kurt had never really felt the need to drink and Blaine had sworn alcohol off after the assault. Anything that lessened his control over his body and mind was a bad idea and induced panic attacks.

Then Valentines came. They spent it in the most cliché way possible, dinner at a small Italian place – at least it wasn't Breadstix this time – and a movie afterwards. Blaine was going to plan something more extravagant, but this was what Kurt wanted, just a normal Valentine's Day date, like the one he'd hoped for and never got last year.

* * *

><p>Both Kurt and Blaine expected they'd be all over each other every time they managed to be alone, now that they knew what they could do together, how far they could safely go and how amazing it was. But surprisingly, not much changed. They didn't suddenly try to get into each other's pants every chance they got. Well, sometimes they did, when they had the comfort of time alone in one of their houses, and circumstances that allowed them to be slow and careful, open, unrestrained in their – very vocal – reactions. It didn't happen often, but when it did, they explored and learned their bodies with awe and delight; they studied reactions and preferences, gently examined the boundaries where comfortable territory ended in order to make each other feel safe and cared for.<p>

They talked, a lot. About things that felt right and not quite so, yet. About what they wanted to try, soon or one day in the future, or maybe never, because Blaine couldn't tell how far he'd be able to go until he hit an invisible wall that wouldn't budge anymore. His body and mind still reacted intensely sometimes. When Kurt was giving him a backrub once, and in a moment of relaxed carelessness straddled his hips to get better access, he found himself on his butt on the floor mere seconds later, Blaine panicked and breathing hard against the opposite wall. It was a reflex he couldn't control.

Another time, in a more intense moment, Kurt – frustrated with the half- lowered pants that kept restricting his movements – whined that maybe they should get rid of clothes altogether. Blaine answered _no_ immediately, without thinking or hesitation – he hadn't realized earlier that this boundary was there, loud and clear. And they talked about it – about feeling vulnerable and defenseless, about him having been undressed against his will. About not being ready and _maybe some time in the future_, and _on his own terms_. And it was fine.

And then there was a day when it was Kurt who said _no_.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter:<strong>_ A year_


	9. A year

**9. A YEAR**

Blaine wasn't planning to acknowledge this day in any way, let alone celebrate it; neither of them even mentioned it. But as soon as he woke up this morning, it was a thought that kept pounding in his head with every heartbeat, flashing through his brain again and again, following him through his routine like a badly hiding stalker.

Exactly a year ago, on a morning so early it was still night, Blaine had been raped. Soon after, broken, bloodied and in pain, he'd called Kurt's number, making his first step on the way that led him, through hurt, anguish, nightmares, tears and therapy, to where he was now. To hope and acceptance, and love. It was a good place to be.

Yet, if he was being truly honest with himself, Blaine felt painfully disappointed. Because yes, he'd acted mature and reasonable, talking about how he was aware that it would always influence his life somehow, and how he accepted it. But the truth was, he'd honestly believed, when he'd ended his therapy and started doing so much better, that a year after the rape he would be whole and perfectly fine again, back to _normal_. That he would be able to forget about it completely, leave it behind like a little bump on the road.

Which didn't happen and it was making him crazy. Sure, he was good and honestly happy most of the time, with Kurt, his family, his friends. The future was open and bright before him. But there were still a lot of things that kept reminding him, every single day, that he'd been broken. Even though he was mostly fixed now, glued back together beautifully, there were still so many cracks visible, places where something was chipped or missing, all those imperfections that just wouldn't disappear.

He still didn't feel completely comfortable with other people. Still kept his distance and avoided being touched by all but Kurt and a handful of his closest friends. There were still nights when he woke up covered in cold sweat, scared and gasping for air; when he would lie shivering until morning, listening to the playlist he'd made from Kurt's CD, over and over.

And then there were triggers. Oh, the triggers. This was what frustrated and hurt Blaine most of all. The way Kurt had to keep being careful around him, even – or maybe mostly – in intimate moments. The things, so many of them, that Blaine wanted to be able to do, but couldn't because his body and mind turned against him. There was no way to turn it off, no magic spell to make it right. He could only wait and be patient, be with Kurt the way he could, and hope, always hope, that with time, he'd be able to offer him more and to take everything Kurt wanted to give him. That one day he'd be able to open up completely, trust so infinitely that his mind wouldn't stop him from laying himself open and vulnerable, completely bare and ready for everything.

But he rebelled against all of this sometimes. He fought with himself, struggled against his invisible restraints. And today, on this dreadful anniversary, he was, more than ever, so mad about them. He felt like a prisoner in his own body, his mind a ruthless warden. And with it being Sunday and his parents away, he needed a distraction, bad. So he called the best distraction he knew.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Kurt was at the door. Blaine didn't even try to pretend he'd asked him to come so that they could talk or watch something, or hang out. Pressing your boyfriend against a wall without even a <em>hello<em> and kissing his neck in all the right spots so that he whimpered and shivered in thirty seconds flat couldn't be called pretending, could it? It had never been like this between them before, they were always slow, careful, loving, but oh, it felt _so_ good now.

Somehow they ended up in his bedroom moments later, urgently tugging on their own clothes in a hurry to uncover more skin. Blaine was faster – fewer layers and his need palpable, burning in his blood, spurring him on – and before Kurt even managed to toss his undershirt on a nearby chair, he was already almost done with the buttons of Kurt's pants, which were a bit less tight today, thank god. Blaine was moving blindly, his lips busy tracing his boyfriend's collarbone, so when he finally slipped his hand into the newly unbuttoned fly, he moaned loudly.

"Kurt," he breathed raggedly. "No underwear?"

The best, sexiest, most gorgeous boyfriend in the world smiled bashfully, giving Blaine the _look_, the one with tilted head and peeking up through his eyelashes.

"Oh well, I had a feeling they would be impractical today. Just one more thing to launder. So, no underwear. Is that okay?"

"So, _so_ okay…"

That was all he managed to say before he was gently pushing Kurt towards the bed and down, until they were laying on the covers. Blaine lost no time in following his favorite pathways over the gloriously pale skin of Kurt's chest, his hand immediately moving back into his pants, to his cock, so hard and hot, and fitting perfectly into Blaine's hand, as if it was created to be there.

For a while it was enough, the burning urge to fight against his restraints temporarily dampened with Kurt's moans; his cock, big and solid, slick with pre-come in Blaine's hand; his stuttering hips; what this was doing to Kurt's lightly defined abs, so delicious that Blaine just had to kiss there, to feel them shift and tremble under his lips.

And this brought him close, oh so close to his hand moving over Kurt's cock, so close he could _smell_ him, clean, masculine, and it was suddenly so obvious, so tempting. There was a pull in Blaine's belly, pounding in his head, and he had to use all of his willpower to stop himself from just closing the distance and kissing, licking the pink head of Kurt's beautiful cock, gleaming with pre-come.

But it wouldn't be right, this wasn't what they did, so he snapped out of his hungry daze, made himself tear his eyes away from the breathtaking view and look at Kurt's face, flushed with arousal, pink lips wet and panting.

"Kurt… Kurt, please…" The stormy eyes opened, confused. "Please, let me taste you? I _need_ to taste you, I just… I want you so much, my lips on you, my tongue, licking, sucking, you in my mouth, filling it…"

Kurt moaned desperately at his words, his eyes rolling and back arching, and Blaine was ready to take this as a _yes_, because what other answer could it be? But then Kurt's voice broke in, breathless and strained, and made him stop.

"No! No Blaine, don't. I'm not ready, and I don't think you are, either."

Kurt's eyes were on him now, earnest and pleading, and Blaine started to protest, because _of course _ he was ready, he _wanted _this, so much! But Kurt just shook his head and pulled at his arm to get him face to face and kiss him, hot and wet and feverish. And then Kurt's hand was reaching to undo Blaine's pants with quiet desperation, and he whined high in his throat when this didn't work quite fast enough.

As soon as he was done with the zipper, Kurt's hand was in his boxer briefs, warm and steady, the other one tugging his pants a little bit down, out of the way, and Kurt was moaning when he stroked Blaine the first few times, as if he had been dying from thirst and was finally able to drink from a jug of wonderfully cold water. It was so sexy, this evidence of how much Kurt wanted him too. Sometimes Blaine still found it hard to believe, there were still days when he wondered how he could be desirable and not repulsive after all that had happened. But moments like this left no doubt in his mind, proved to him over and over again that he could. That he was. To Kurt.

Then Kurt's free hand pulled on his, leading it back where it started and… oh. _Oh_. They'd never done this before, never like this, always taking turns instead. So it was new and exciting, and not exactly a step further, but rather exploring some more within the same known boundaries, and it was enough. More than enough, it was amazing and breathtaking, the way their hands seemed to synchronize, quickly finding the rhythm that suited them both and then going with it, sharing kisses, licking into each other's mouths, air between them hot and filled with moans, pants, their names uttered breathlessly over and over, and _I love you'_s, and _forever_s.

And Blaine never believed in the ease with which lovers seemed to just orgasm together, like he'd seen over and over again in the erotic stories he'd used to read on the internet sometimes before the assault happened. But when Kurt froze, his muscles tense and high strung, and then shivered violently, coming with a wordless cry on his lips, Blaine couldn't help but follow close behind, because this was just unbelievably good, this image and sounds and sensations, Kurt spilling hot and messy all over his hand while his own kept moving, completely without a rhythm or control now, on Blaine's cock.

* * *

><p>They were still lying face to face later, sated and languid, cleaned up only perfunctorily with tissues because they didn't want to move from the bed, not yet. It was safe here, warm and comfortable, and Blaine felt like purring with contentment. Kurt's eyes were smiling, his fingers played lazily with the stray curls falling over Blaine's temple. Even his voice was slow and hushed when he spoke.<p>

"Do you feel better now?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Speaking was too much effort, as was thinking too hard about what Kurt might have meant.

"Did you think I forgot what day it is?"

_Oh. That. _He tried to divert the conversation, knowing it was futile.

"Um. Sunday?"

"Blaine."

Oh well, it had been worth a try. He sighed.

"Yeah. I feel better. Much better, actually. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me for being on call. Even for booty calls."

Humor gleamed in Kurt's eyes and Blaine felt himself smile.

"Do you really think we're not ready for blowjobs?"

The question flew from his lips before he realized he was going to speak. His mind was still in a post-sex state of bliss, it seemed. Kurt just quirked an eyebrow.

"Do _you_ think we are? Honestly? It wasn't just an attempt to push against your boundaries?"

Blaine took a while to really think about it, to judge his own feelings and desires and reactions. And… he wasn't sure. Today was the first time he actually felt the _urge_ to make this particular step further, the first time when it wasn't just a thought that _maybe_, one day, they would. It was a new development, sudden and unexpected, and it probably meant he was okay with getting there soon, but right now…?

Kurt, who was watching him closely, nodded.

"Yeah. I thought so. I want to, too, you know. But I think we should talk about this first and, I don't know, get used to the thought? Wait for a moment when we both feel it's just right? Besides, I kind of want it to be special."

Faint blush crept up Kurt's cheeks and Blaine blinked.

"Special?"

"Yeah, I mean… everything with you _is_ special, every time we get together like this, every touch, every kiss. But you know how I'm just a silly romantic, and I can't help thinking I'd like to have a first time that's planned as _really_ special, with candles and music and a whole night to enjoy each other undisturbed and all that. You know?"

Blaine nodded, because he could imagine it perfectly well and now that he did, he realized he wanted this too. Kurt continued.

"I just want a memory like this, to save in my head forever. And I don't know, it may be our last first time left, you know? It may be the furthest we'd ever get and I want a chance to celebrate that. Okay?"

He said this all so matter-of-factly that even if Blaine hadn't believed Kurt's assertions that he was fine with however far they'd get, he would now. Kurt _looked_ fine, _sounded_ fine, like it was something natural, completely normal that his boyfriend was flawed and imperfect, and may never be able to give him everything he deserved. And Blaine was so grateful, but still, it didn't change the hard squeeze of regret and anger in his chest. He pushed these feelings down, aside.

"_So_ okay, Kurt. Can I take control then, like you wanted me to, and make the plan? Not now, but somewhere in the near future, when it feels right?"

Kurt smiled so brightly that his eyes sparkled.

"I'd love that."

"Great. So, you're right, we really should talk. You say you want blowjobs too? Tell me more about that..."

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter:<strong> _Celebrations_


	10. Celebrations

**A/N: **_I want to thank you all for reading and reviewing this story – and all of my stories. I rarely answer the reviews individually, and I'm sorry for that. Being a working mom of a toddler, I don't have much free time, and when I do have an hour or two, I choose to write more rather than respond. Please know that I read and appreciate all of your comments; knowing that you come back here for more and that you like what I write is what keeps me motivated. I smile every time I get an alert about a review – it makes even a bad day like today much better. So thank you – all of you – for being here and taking time out of your busy lives to read and comment._

* * *

><p><strong>10. CELEBRATIONS<strong>

There was another anniversary next Saturday, a much happier one this time. It had been a year since the night Kurt had sung _Not Alone_ to Blaine, certain he wouldn't be heard and understood, ready to give up all hope of them ever being more than best friends. But fate or some deity, whatever it was, had intervened, and Blaine _had_ heard.

And then they had talked, both stunned about the other's feelings, both unsure what it meant for them. The next morning Blaine lay looking at sleeping Kurt's beautiful, peaceful face. Feeling all the love flow through him and, for a moment, drown everything else, he had made the best decision in his life. The decision that led them – together – to where they were now.

Today would be special – Blaine had plans for the day. Big plans that he was excited and a bit apprehensive about. He hoped Kurt would like them.

They'd decided to split the celebration so that each of them could plan a part of the day, and Kurt wanted to take the evening, so here Blaine was at 11 am, turning onto Kurt's street. He suddenly felt nervous. What if Kurt didn't like where they were going for lunch? He'd certainly sounded uncertain when Blaine had told him to wear something comfortable and warm, as well as waterproof shoes. It was a beautiful day, thankfully. The sun was shining brightly for the first time in weeks and spring was in the air, but it was still early March after all, and the ground would be damp where they were going. The _special_ part of Blaine's plan would come later, when they were back and had some time alone in Kurt's room before going out again for the evening.

Kurt was ready and waiting when Blaine entered without ringing the bell, just like Burt had repeatedly told him to. He didn't even blink when Blaine suggested they take his Navigator, because it might be better suited for the roads they would be driving – just handed him the keys. All through the hour-long drive they talked about everything but their destination, until Blaine couldn't contain it anymore.

"Aren't you going to ask me where we're headed?"

"No, I trust you."

Kurt's voice was absolutely calm – maddeningly so, since Blaine had half-expected some friendly banter or at least Kurt trying to weasel some hints out of him. He couldn't resist teasing a little.

"For all you know, I could be a serial killer, taking you to some remote location where I plan to gruesomely murder you and hide your body so that no one would ever find it."

Kurt shrugged, nonplussed.

"Oh well, then you're out of luck, mister killer. My car has a GPS tracker connected to my dad's office computer. In case I ever decided to start sneaking out at night or something."

"Oh, that's really unfortunate. In that case, we'll have to delay those particular plans and get by with a walk and lunch. And here we are."

Kurt looked around at solid walls of trees surrounding the car and for the first time today looked dubious.

"Blaine, you know I'm not a scout, right? And as far as I know, neither are you? Are you sure we'll ever find our way out of these woods if we leave the safety of the car?"

Blaine laughed, joyful and bubbly.

"I'm sure. I know this particular part of the woods perfectly. I've been here dozens of times. Come on, let's go."

He neglected to mention that the last time he'd been here, he was twelve, not long before his coming out. After that, his dad suddenly didn't seem to know how to talk with him anymore and their most favorite place became a thing of the past. Now, Blaine grabbed the backpack from the backseat and reached his hand to help Kurt out.

The paths were even more overgrown than before, but they were still there, easy to follow and wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side. Blaine didn't release Kurt's hand even for a second: it was a feeling they didn't get nearly enough of. There weren't many places where they could hold hands while walking outside in Ohio.

After a few minutes of watching their surroundings curiously, Kurt finally asked.

"Why here?"

Blaine had expected this question, of course. There was a very specific reason for choosing this forgotten place.

"Do you remember two weeks ago, when you said one of your biggest dreams was just being able to walk peacefully together like this, holding hands and not caring about other people? How you missed it after knowing what it was like, in New York?" Kurt nodded. That had been quite an unforgettable scene – Kurt throwing a fit at the mall and Blaine comforting him with raspberry and yogurt ice-cream before taking him home to make out for hours. "Well, I can't take you to New York just yet, but I could take you here, where we can do whatever we want for a few hours. Nobody comes here. I've never met a soul. And it's beautiful, you'll see."

It really was. The path ended suddenly and when Blaine moved the overgrown bushes out of the way enough to pass through, he heard Kurt gasp. The lake shimmered in the spring sun, its surface stirred lightly by a breeze. All around, first hints of new leaves were visible, like a delicate green mist hanging around the brown-black winter trees and bushes. Here and there, crocuses were covering the ground in spots of color.

It was a small lake; even when Blaine was a child, walking around took his dad and him no more than two hours. There had been an old picnic spot halfway around, with a slightly crooked table and two benches tucked under a small roof. Blaine hoped it was still there now. He had everything they needed for lunch in his backpack.

When Blaine had come out to his parents and understood that he would no longer come here with his dad, he used to imagine taking somebody he loved, a _boy _he loved, to show him this place and share his memories one day. And this was what he did now. They walked slowly along the banks of blue-green water that reminded him of Kurt's eyes, holding hands, their fingers intertwined. He told his boyfriend about the countless happy hours and days spent here with his father over the years, how it used to be their secret and how close they felt, coming here together, just the two of them. He'd seen this lake in every season, probably every month of the year, and the long untouched memories that crowded his head when he stirred them awake stung and hurt. He didn't realize how much he missed those happy days until he felt himself choke up.

Kurt's arms were around him in a heartbeat and Blaine felt incredibly thankful that there were no people around so he could hide his face on Kurt's shoulder and let the tears flow. It felt like hours, but once they stopped, he raised his head and felt Kurt's warm hand on his cheek.

"I'm sure your father would love to come here with you again now, don't you think?"

Blaine's heart squeezed with child-like hope and he said nothing, leaning into Kurt's inviting lips. They kissed softly, tenderly for long minutes, until the last tears on Blaine's eyelashes had dried.

The picnic place was still there, even more battered than before, but usable, the view still breathtaking. Blaine took out a thick blanket he'd packed specifically for this reason and laid it carefully on the less rickety of the benches. He covered the table with a paper tablecloth, then set it with plastic plates and cups.

They ate sandwiches and a salad that Blaine had carefully packed into lunch boxes, and drank hot chocolate poured from a thermos. He'd even remembered to bring mini marshmallows that he put in their cups now, sending Kurt into fits of giggles. They had fruit for dessert and then long kisses that they ended only when they started going into territory that could hardly be called public-safe.

But then, they weren't really in public, were they? So when Kurt asked him if he'd packed any tissues or moist toilettes, and Blaine pulled out both from his bottomless backpack, the mischievous glint in Kurt's eyes took only seconds to understand. And when he did… _Oh man_. Blaine had never thought how hot it would be to have Kurt pressing him against a tree and ravishing his lips with deep, wet kisses while his hand dove into his pants, but… Yeah. _Really _hot. So hot, actually, that he needed to show Kurt afterwards, just so that he knew, and… Oh well.

Half an hour later, sated and buzzing with excitement, their lips kiss-raw and their bodies and hands smelling of aloe, they packed their things and started back around the other side of the lake. They stopped by every crooked tree, every interestingly mossy stone and patch of crocuses. Though they called it nature gazing, it had more to do with kissing, touching, leaning into each other and laughing, always laughing with complete, utter joy.

On their way back home, Blaine didn't even have to ask Kurt if he liked his anniversary date. The blissful expression on his face, the way his eyes kept returning to Blaine over and over again, filled with so much love they shone bright like the sun, told him everything. And it wasn't even all of his plan yet.

* * *

><p>Blaine stood in the middle of the bedroom and took Kurt's hands. His voice was shaking when he first spoke, but grew steadier with every word until he sounded utterly calm and confident, absolutely sure of what he was saying to the boy standing in front of him.<p>

"Kurt… This place, your room, is really special to me, for many reasons. That's why I want to do this here. Kurt, I need you to know how much I love you and how important you've been in my life ever since I met you. You got me from the first time we spoke, understood me better than anyone else has, ever. You soon became my best friend, someone I could always rely on to support me or to set me straight, whatever I needed. And then… then you became my everything. My love, my support system, my savior. And I want to thank you for all of this, Kurt; I don't know where I'd be now if I didn't have _you_ in my life. You've always accepted me without reservations, never tried to change or fix me, and your complete faith in me was what helped me fix myself this last year."

Kurt's eyes were full of tears, shaky grin on his lips. When Blaine reached into his breast pocket and took out a small black pouch, his boyfriend's eyes grew huge and he looked like he was about to faint. Blaine shook the rings out of the pouch and closed them in his hand. Looking at Kurt with an earnest expression, he continued.

"This isn't a proposal. I know we're barely eighteen and we have a lot of time to think about adult things like marriage. But in my heart, Kurt, I have no doubt that you're the love of my life and I want to be with you forever. You're my soulmate, my other half that I've been missing all my life even if I didn't know that. And I want to give you something as a promise that I'll be with you every step of our way if you only let me, and one day, years from now, I want to hold your hand and become your husband."

Blaine opened his hand to reveal the two simple silver bands lying there. He took one of them and asked softly.

"Kurt, will you do me the honor of wearing this ring?"

Kurt was crying openly now, but the smile on his face was blinding.

"Only if you wear the other one."

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Kurt had obsessed over the choice of the restaurant for the longest time, and had ordered tickets for the opening night of <em>West Side Story<em> in Columbus musical theater as soon as they were available, but now none of these mattered, not really. Of course, they had a good time and Blaine loved his choices and complimented him repeatedly on his outfit and appearance, but it all paled in face of what had happened before, in Kurt's room.

He couldn't help but touch the thin band of silver on his ring finger all the time. The metal had warmed up from his skin, but it still felt new and foreign, even if it represented something so well known, familiar and welcome. It wasn't an engagement ring, but it felt like one, to be honest. With what there was between Blaine and him, Kurt couldn't help feeling like it was just pre-engagement. When Blaine had told him earlier about where and how he bought the rings, without really planning to, it felt like magic, like fate. And Verona? The city of Romeo and Juliet? Could there be any more obvious connection? The tiny eternity symbol etched into the silver was a promise and a request, and Kurt was fine with both. So fine.

His lips stretched into a smile every time he took Blaine's hand tonight, every time he looked at the cool line of silver contrasting with his boyfriend's olive-toned skin. And all along, Kurt still couldn't believe this was his life. A year ago, he'd sat by his broken, hurt best friend's side in the middle of the night, getting ready to try and let go of the hope that he would ever be anything more to him.

So much had happened since then. So many things, painful and beautiful, scary and delightful, but they had taken all of them on and come out victorious, together. They'd both grown so much, matured faster than they should have had to. But such was life; it wasn't perfect or fair, but it was theirs. And Kurt was certain that it would still be hard and cruel sometimes, in the future. But as long as they kept making it together, it would be amazing for many more anniversaries to come.

* * *

><p>Two weeks passed and then, within two days of each other, there were official-looking envelopes in their mailboxes. They waited to open them together, when they were alone in Kurt's house after school, so that they could have their first bouts of flailing or despair in private before sharing the news, whatever it was, with their families.<p>

The news turned out to be good. The best, actually. They were both accepted. They were going to New York. Together, to the same school. They would be both studying musical theatre at NYU, and Blaine – at his father's insistence – pre-business in addition to that.

They laughed and hugged, and Kurt teared up a little, before Blaine grabbed him and twirled him around the room in a mad victory dance. And then they each called their parents because their joy was too great to contain and had to be shared, immediately. Then there were tears and congratulations and promises of celebrations later.

And it was time, the best time to approach their parents about the accommodation issue. They had both been informed that they could apply for dorm rooms, since they hadn't so far, and it was time to make a decision.

Kurt's family was the first they talked to, simply because they turned their traditional Friday family dinner the next day into a college acceptance celebration feast, while Blaine's parents were taking them both out to dinner on Saturday. And it was easier this way, too. Neither of them was really nervous about having this conversation with Burt and Carole; the only aspect that could come into account was money, an issue they were already prepared to address.

They were right, of course. Over desserts, Kurt looked at his parents earnestly.

"Dad, Carole, I want you to know that we are planning to find a place to live together in New York. We're not going to apply for the dorms."

Burt just shrugged.

"I know. I was sure you would. And I guess that, being you, you've got it all figured out already, finances and all, so just know that while we will help you as much as we can, you'll have to be at least partially self-sufficient to be able to do this. If you think you can do that, we're fine with it."

The Andersons were tougher, although honestly, it went a lot easier than Blaine had pictured it in his head. He expected them to refuse, or at least argue the case. They didn't. His father just asked them a lot of questions. Where did they want to live? By themselves or with more people? How did they plan to cover and share the expenses? What about safety issues, because lower rent often meant a dangerous neighborhood? What about proximity to school? Thankfully, their long discussions about living in New York, as well as Kurt's obsession with planning paid off. They knew what they wanted and could answer every question easily. Finally, Blaine's dad nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin and setting it aside.

"Okay. I see you've planned this carefully and reasonably, so I have no problem with it. We'll talk about details after graduation."

And just like that, the topic was closed. It was decided and approved. Soon, they would be living together.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Special_

Please book an appointment with your dentist for Monday afternoon. Or at least have a toothbrush ready. If you're a diabetic, the next chapter might be dangerous for your health; please consult your doctor before reading.

;)


	11. Special

**A/N: **_I hope you brought snacks. This chapter is officially the longest one I've ever published: 4800 words. Have fun reading and let me know what you think. I want to know! (Stut-ter, who as a member of the Unholy Triad is privileged to read this earlier, predicted deaths by diabetic shock. I sure hope she exaggerated.)_

_Oh, and the song is Simple Plan's _This Song Saved My Life_, and it's perfect. Read the lyrics at least if you can't listen while reading._

* * *

><p><strong>11. SPECIAL<strong>

Burt was surprised when Blaine came into the garage one early May afternoon, looking a bit nervous and uneasy. When the boy asked if they could talk in private, his surprise immediately turned into anxiety. Was something wrong with either of them? Did something bad happen again?

As soon as they were alone in the small office space, behind the closed door, Burt turned to Blaine.

"What happened?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows.

"What, why? Nothing happened. Why would you think that?"

Burt sighed in relief and sat in his old, rickety desk chair.

"Well, you don't usually come here alone, and you look like something's bothering you."

Blaine blushed – really blushed – and looked at the floor, shuffling his feet.

"Um, that's because I'm not sure if what I'm about to do right now is a smart move. I just hope you won't kick me out of here and ban me from your house for good."

"Let's hear it then. Come on, sit down and tell me what it is that you did."

Blaine sat on the wooden stool opposite him; Burt could see him gathering courage. He was really curious what this was about now. When the boy started talking, his voice was quiet but mostly steady; he looked Burt in the eyes, nervous but certain.

"Nothing. Yet. But… do you remember that talk you had with Kurt and I over a year ago? When we'd just become a couple?"

Oh. _That _talk. So this was about _sex_. Right. Burt braced himself.

"I remember. What about it?"

It was clearly difficult for Blaine to keep his eyes up, but he soldiered on. Burt couldn't help but admire him; the kid had balls.

"Well, you said that as long as we were good to each other and respectful of our boundaries, you didn't care if we were doing anything um… sexual."

"That I did. So?"

"Well, we kind of… want to… I mean…"

"You and Kurt want to have sex."

It sounded strange and all wrong, said straight out like that, and Burt _really_ did not need to know the details of his son's sex life. But at the same time he couldn't help feeling a little shocked – they were _that_ far already? It had been over a year, sure, but considering the circumstances… Blaine's voice shook him out of his thoughts.

"Um. It depends how you define sex, I think. But _something_ sexual. Yes."

Burt kept his face neutral, but inwardly he smiled. So they _were_ taking things slow. He was relieved they were being smart after all.

"I'm moved that you're telling me this, Blaine, but I don't think you need my permission. I told you that before."

Blaine blushed harder.

"But I need your permission for Kurt to stay at my house over the weekend when my parents aren't there. And I kind of… wanted to ask you for help in arranging a surprise."

Burt finally let his smile show and saw Blaine relax instantly.

"Okay. Tell me about it."

* * *

><p>He'd found the arrangement sweet and romantic, the kind of thing he knew Kurt would love. So sure, he would help. Let his son have all the good, beautiful moments he could – with so much evil and cruelty in this world, especially for people like these boys, there was never too much of a good thing. On Friday, during their traditional family dinner, Burt took the first step in Blaine's plan.<p>

"Oh, Kurt? Pack a bag for the weekend, we're going away tonight."

Kurt nearly choked on a forkful of peas.

"What? But Dad, I have plans with Blaine! Where are we going?"

Burt remained calm and unmoved.

"You'll see. It's a surprise; just some bonding time. Call Blaine and tell him you'll meet on Monday."

"But Daaad…"

"Nope, no whining. Be ready by 8:30."

Kurt pouted.

"At least tell me what kind of dress code is required for this trip."

"Just, normal. Simple and comfortable."

"Okay."

Kurt was clearly irked, even though he tried not to show it, and scurried away to his room as soon as the table was cleared. At 8:30 sharp he descended the stairs with his overnight bag and a face that showed quiet resignation. Burt struggled not to chuckle as he took his own bag (filled with things to be dropped at the dry-cleaner's tomorrow morning, not that Kurt needed to know), said goodbye to Carole – who was in on the plan, of course – and opened the door to go out to the car.

"You call Blaine?"

"Yes. He was disappointed, but he said he has stuff to do this weekend, so he'd be fine." Kurt sighed. "I wish you'd told me earlier, you know? I like to know these things, to plan ahead."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be a surprise then. You'll like it, I'm sure."

Kurt didn't sound convinced.

"We'll see." Then his tone softened. "But it's spending time with you. I'm sure I'll love it."

* * *

><p>They were silent most of the way, Kurt's eyes closed like Burt requested. He took a different route than the usual, shorter one – this was a surprise, after all, and Kurt would easily recognize the way he took hundreds of times without even looking.<p>

Finally, they stopped and Burt looked at his son with a soft smile. He was so grown up already. This weekend, he would grow up a little more. It was a bit sad, the way time was taking his little boy further and further away from him. And yet he was so thankful that it would be like this, with love and respect; with joy. Because when Kurt opened his eyes, after some initial confusion, there was nothing but joy on his face.

"Dad, what-"

"Go on, kiddo, take your bag and go. Be good and have fun. Tell Blaine to get you home on Sunday evening."

"Are you… I… _Really_?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go. I want to be back home for the game."

The look that Kurt gave him would stay in Burt's memory forever, catalogued under _Amazing Dad_.

"I love you!"

And with that, his son was gone. Burt chuckled softly and turned the car to go home.

* * *

><p>Kurt felt like he was in a dream. His dad had just taken him to Blaine's house and left him there for the weekend; even telling him to have fun. Kurt's head was spinning. Did Blaine even know this? His parents were away for the weekend, that much Kurt knew, and Blaine said he'd be busy anyway… Wait, did they <em>plan <em>this together? No, no way.

He picked up his bag and walked down the long path through the Andersons' front yard. No cars were in the driveway and the house was dark. Kurt felt a tug of anxiety in his gut; was Blaine even _home_? Maybe he'd gone somewhere, knowing that he couldn't count on spending time with Kurt this weekend.

A flash of something light against the solid dark wood of the front door caught Kurt's attention. It was a piece of paper – cream, thick and folded in half – tucked into the door. Carefully penned letters in deep black ink spelled _KURT_ and suddenly his heart felt like it wanted to jump out of his chest. This was _planned_. Blaine had some kind of plan for a weekend together, alone. Which could mean many things, of course, but Kurt was pretty sure it only meant one. That he was about to have a night he would remember forever. With a trembling hand, Kurt took the note out and opened it.

_Come in._

_The door is open._

_Wait for me in the living room._

With a deep breath, Kurt opened the door to step into what he was pretty sure would be a romantic dream.

He was wrong.

It was a fairytale.

* * *

><p>There was no light in the long hallway, but it wasn't completely dark either, and Kurt's breath hitched when he saw why. A trail of candles, tiny tealights in clear glass holders, lined the hallway, disappearing behind a corner. It was like an invitation to follow. And that's what he did, leaving his shoes, bag and his summer jacket by the door.<p>

The house was quiet; it felt like nobody was there at all. Kurt wondered if Blaine wanted him to wait because he'd gone out for some reason, or if this was a part of his plan. He suspected the latter, and he was proven right when the trail of lights led him into the living room.

What he found was _spectacular_. Kurt stood in the doorway for a long while, just taking it all in with awe and delight. The space was transformed from its usual quiet elegance. The fireplace was lit, giving the room a warm feel, amplified by more tealights on every flat surface. In front of the fireplace lay a thick, furry rug in white, looking so plush and inviting that Kurt felt an immediate need to kneel down and touch it. There were vases with large bouquets of lilac, Kurt's favorite flowers, on both ends of the room; dark purple with a single stalk of white in each. They looked beautiful and smelled intoxicating.

It was not the only heavenly smell in the room. A low table stood by the side of the fireplace, set with little bowls of fruit. There were strawberries and grapes there, green and black, as well as sliced apples and peaches in a covered bowl, and in the middle of it all a chocolate fondue bubbled happily, dispersing a rich dark aroma throughout the room. To the side stood two wineglasses and a bottle in an ice bucket that, when Kurt came closer, turned out to be sparkling cider.

Another note lay on the edge on the table, the elegant cream paper not folded this time, with Blaine's handwriting.

_Remember when you sang "Not Alone" to me that night?_

As soon as Kurt put the note back down, wondering what Blaine meant – because _of course_ he remembered, how could he ever forget? – the sound system behind him came to life with a song he vaguely knew, but had never really _listened_to until now.

_I want to start by letting you know this_

_Because of you my life has a purpose  
><em>

The song went on, and by the end of the first chorus Kurt's eyes were stinging with tears and his chest felt tight. It was so hard to listen to this and remember those dark, painful days last March.

_I was broken, I was choking, I was lost_

_This song saved my life_

_I was bleeding, stopped believing, could have died_

_This song saved my life_

_I was down, I was drowning_

_but it came on just in time_

_This song saved my life  
><em>

Tears were flowing freely, but they were not sad tears, not really. Kurt felt grateful; _so_ grateful for the fact that Blaine was still here. That they were together and could think about the future and love each other with all their hearts, could be happy in spite of all the crap life kept throwing their way. And he made a promise to himself, right then, right there: that if things between them ever got hard, if there were problems and rough patches, he would remember this; remember how much they had to be thankful for. How precious it was.

Halfway through the second verse, strong, warm arms embraced Kurt from behind and he whipped around to find Blaine there, gorgeous in a red shirt and black pants, smiling softly.

Kurt launched himself into his arms with a broken half-sob, burrowing his face into the soft skin between Blaine's collar and his jaw. This was all he needed right now. This boy, whole and alive, and _his_, the love of his life, however incredible that may sound at eighteen. For a moment they just stood like this, holding each other and listening to the song winding to an end, until Kurt's breathing slowed down. Finally, he raised his head from Blaine's neck to look him in the eyes.

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just wanted to thank you for being with me. Tell you how important you are to me. Every word of what you heard is true."

"Yeah, I know, these are good tears. I'm so happy you're here, not just with me, but in the world at all. Did you really… back then..."

"Wanted to die? No, not really. There were moments, though… sometimes… Without you in my life, I don't know where I'd be today. I have no idea where I'd have ended up without your love. I mean, look how many things wouldn't have happened without you and your family – Eric's arrest, my parents' acceptance, therapy, last summer together, the transfer… I'm _so_ happy I heard you that night."

"Yeah, me too…"

Blaine's eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"Okay, enough sad thoughts, tonight is supposed to be about joy and love. We've never had a chance to dance together, so… May I have this dance?"

Some slow ballad was playing now, and Kurt laughed, his happiness even more real and intense when he looked at it in contrast with what might have been.

"Yes. Yes you may."

* * *

><p>They swayed to the music for a long time, so close that their bodies seemed fused; every muscle, every curve pressed together. It felt amazing, dancing like this. Sometimes during the blackest nights, when dreams were allowed and secrets safely hidden in the soft darkness, Kurt used to imagine dancing with a boy, maybe at his prom, without hiding or fear. But even in these dreams he never thought it could be so good – the warmth and smell of Blaine all around him, the music enveloping them, floating over and vibrating through them. It felt so intimate and so innocent at the same time.<p>

It turned out dancing like this was a perfect opportunity to kiss, too. Slow and deep, their bodies so attuned to the music that it seemed to pulse between their lips and sliding tongues. Soon there were necks involved, and wandering hands, which led straight to gasps when their hips ground against each other, causing delicious friction. Blaine pulled away then, panting, taking Kurt's hand to lead him.

"Come here."

The furry rug proved to be just as soft and comfortable as it looked, and they sunk onto it, kissing and touching unhurriedly, Blaine's face even more beautiful in the warm glow of the fire, tiny flames of the candles nearby dancing in his eyes, painting them golden. Every move of their bodies, every touch felt special, and Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that he was being cherished, almost worshipped, with every single one of Blaine's kisses and whispered words of love.

At some point their shirts got discarded, their pants opened, and nothing outside this room mattered then, nothing but Kurt and Blaine, their hands on each other, their gasps and moans caught between their lips. They were one here, completely open and shameless in these moments, safe in their vulnerability because if they could be certain of anything, it was of the fact that either of them would sooner hurt himself than the other one. It was _right_. Right time, right place, right even though an orgasm, just like sleep and death, is a solitary experience, they managed to keep their eyes open and focused on each other's up till the very last second, and came back down right to their tight embrace, legs intertwined and lips connected.

Sometime later Kurt ran his tongue over Blaine's wonderfully sensitive upper lip, which was meant as a way to get attention, but ended up in them getting lost in each other for a few more minutes. When their lips separated, he finally managed to say what he planned.

"I think we both need a shower."

Blaine chuckled, sounding sated.

"You might be right. But we'd have to get up to do it."

"I think we might survive if we come back here afterwards and continue the fun in our pajamas, what do you say?"

"Hm. I like your thinking. Okay, you go to the bathroom down the hall, I'll go upstairs, and we'll meet back here in ten minutes."

"Yes sir."

* * *

><p>It wasn't that Kurt was stalling under the streams of deliciously hot water. Not at all. He was just reveling in every minute of this evening and, well, making sure he was perfectly clean. Because unless he was mistaken, this was the Big Night. The one he kept dreaming about more and more lately, barely able to contain his need whenever Blaine's lips were getting close, so close, but never <em>there<em>. He knew Blaine wanted it just as much, they'd talked about it again and again. It would be easy to just give in to the mutual desire and try it; learn each other's taste, check what it felt like to have his boyfriend's talented lips on him, his beautiful cock filling Kurt's mouth; just once. But Blaine was adamant: it was supposed to be special. Kurt's own words were coming back to bite him in the ass. Finally, it looked like it was going to happen, under circumstances so extraordinary he couldn't have dreamed of anything better. Kurt was half hard already, just thinking about it.

Finally, he got out of the shower, drying himself carefully with a fluffy blue towel Blaine had left for him. Raking his fingers through his damp hair, he looked in the mirror. His face was flushed, his eyes sparkling, lips red and slightly puffy from kissing. The silver band on his ring finger was his only adornment as he stood, naked. The ridiculously large mirror reflected his lean form and Kurt had to admit that he'd never felt as good in his own body as he did now.

He'd been extremely self-conscious most of his life – about his round, milkmaid face; his pear hips; his proportions always somehow off, his skin too pale, too quick to blush or sunburn. In his own eyes, he'd been the picture of awkwardness. Yet when Blaine looked at him, he saw a completely different picture: _beautiful_, _gorgeous_, _hot_, _sexy_ were just some of the adjectives he'd used describing it. And as Kurt was looking in the mirror now, he had to admit what he saw was pretty acceptable, actually. The last two years had been good for him. He'd shot up, which resulted in better body proportions; his legs were long and slim, able to rock even the tightest pair of jeans. His butt wasn't bad, either, small and shapely. Flat, toned stomach; smooth, defined chest; long neck and a face that had finally lost the last of the baby fat; pale, flawless skin…

Suddenly aware that it must have been much longer than ten minutes, Kurt put on his pajama pants quickly, foregoing a shirt. He took a deep, steadying breath before going back to the living room. Blaine, similarly clad, was waiting patiently on the sofa by the low table. His eyes brightened when he saw Kurt, who felt a pressing need to explain his long absence.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

Blaine smiled widely.

"Shush. Come here."

The wine glasses had been filled with sparkling cider; they shimmered in the candlelight as Blaine handed Kurt one of them. They drank a little in silence before Blaine took a strawberry out of the bowl, dipped it in the melted chocolate and raised it to Kurt's lips.

The chocolate was perfect, dark and exquisite, with a hint of chili aftertaste pleasantly stinging his tongue. When combined with the juicy sweetness of the ripe strawberry, the effect was amazing. Kurt couldn't suppress a moan at the decadent taste. He rarely let himself indulge in chocolate, leaving the guilty pleasure for moments when he was feeling particularly low; he found that abstinence sharpened the delight even more now.

Blaine chuckled and reached to bring another strawberry to Kurt's lips. In his hurry, he didn't wait long enough for the excess chocolate to drip back to the fondue dish, and warm drops of it landed in a messy trail on Kurt's chest. Explosions of flavor still on his tongue, Kurt opened his eyes slowly to look for a tissue – just in time to see Blaine's tongue connecting with a dot of chocolate on his chest.

It felt strangely erotic, the way Blaine was cleaning him up with his tongue. So much so, in fact, that Kurt was fully hard in a matter of seconds, whimpering helplessly as the last of the mess was licked off his right nipple. When Blaine came up to his lips, eagerly searching for every last bit of chocolate melted there, Kurt dove into the kiss like a starving man.

Soon enough, it turned into full-on food play. They fed each other chocolate-covered fruit, meticulously cleaning any drips with their lips and tongues, stopping every now and then to drink some cider and kiss, slow and sweet. When all the fruit was gone, Blaine put two of his fingers into the warm chocolate and started painting abstract patterns on Kurt's stomach, around his belly button and down, until he reached _just _over the low-slung waistband of his pajama pants, and Kurt gasped. With his cock pressing against the waistband, Blaine's tongue would be mere millimeters from the head if he licked the chocolate he'd smeared there. The thought was intoxicating, and suddenly Kurt had enough of playing, he wanted Blaine's mouth, _now_.

"Blaine… Blaine, come on, I want-"

And then he was in the air. Or, more specifically, in Blaine's arms, being carried towards the stairs. Kurt would be lying shamelessly if he said that the ease with which his boyfriend picked him up didn't fuel the desire in his veins even more.

"Blaine, hey, wait, why are we moving? It's so cozy down here!"

"You'll see. Close your eyes."

They were upstairs now and Blaine wasn't even winded after climbing the stairs with his additional weight. Kurt did what he was told, although he really didn't know what Blaine could have done to make it better than downstairs. Then he felt himself deposited gently on the bed, smooth, silky fabric under him.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

The place he knew so well by now was completely changed. Strings of tiny lights had been woven tastefully around the room, just enough to disperse the darkness, but not to overwhelm. Their light was cold, so different than the candles downstairs, but there was something thrilling in the way it looked, like at a frosty winter night. Kurt rose up on his forearms to look around and his heart clenched when he saw what Blaine had done to make this night even more special.

He was lying on fine black satin that gleamed slightly in the dim lighting. On the bed and all around it, hundreds and hundreds of deep red rose petals contrasted perfectly with the black of the fabric, the white of lights and the paleness of his own skin where he pressed against them. There was a subtle aroma of sandalwood coming from a single candle burning on the nightstand.

It was _perfect_.

His face must have said this already, because Blaine was smiling widely when Kurt's eyes returned to his face.

"Special enough?"

"Blaine… it's perfect. I love you. And I want you. Please, come on, I want you so bad…"

The bed dipped and Blaine was there, leaning over him, licking the chocolate that was smeared all over his abdomen now, and Kurt could only lie back down and take it, _feel_ it as every nerve in his skin sizzled and tingled with pleasure. Blaine's hot, wet tongue was circling his bellybutton, dipping in to get the last tiny drop of chocolate out. His perfect mouth was sucking at the skin there and usually Kurt loved this, it was one of his favorite places but tonight – tonight he wanted _more_. _Right now_.

He moaned desperately and Blaine's tongue came back, lower this time, still cleaning him up and it was too much, damn it.

"Blaine, just… fuck the mess, I want your mouth, please. _Please_ Bla- _ahhhh._"

There it was. Blaine's tongue, sneaking under the waistband of Kurt's pants, just tiny kitten-licks of heaven, hot all over the head of his cock.

"_More_."

He had no idea when his voice had become so ragged, but it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered as long as Blaine kept doing what he was doing. Sliding Kurt's pants down over his thighs. Stroking his cock, once, twice… kissing the tip, his lips light and warm. Swirling his tongue… around… Then sinking down with his lips… lower, lower… _Oh_.

Heaven.

* * *

><p>It took him a while to come back to himself, even more to regain control over his muscles. Everything was a little fuzzy around the edges and the world was so, <em>so<em> good. And there was Blaine, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing Blaine, sitting by Kurt's side with a warm smile on his face.

"_Ohmygod_."

"Good?" Blaine knew the answer, of course he did, his happy eyes said so, but Kurt didn't mind telling him, or better yet, _showing _him.

"Amazing. Breathtaking. Spectacular. Can I…?"

"Do you want to?" Blaine's eyes were completely black in this light, his breathing fast.

"Of course I want to! What do you think I've been dreaming about almost every night for the last month?"

"But… giving?"

"Uhm. Mmm… let me?"

They switched places, only Blaine insisted that he wanted to watch, so he half-sat against the pillows. Kurt leaned in to meet Blaine's lips, deep and dirty; kissed his neck in all the best spots; then led a hot trail down his chest and stomach. Looking up to make sure it was still okay, he met Blaine's eyes – wanting, pleading – and his hunger for this flared.

Quick slide of Blaine's pajama pants – just a bit, undressing was still a trigger – and Kurt inhaled deeply, kissing down the pronounced _V_ of his boyfriends hips, down to the crease of his thigh. Blaine smelled like his favorite shower gel and dark chocolate, but beside that, there was an underlying hint of pure masculinity that shot right to Kurt's groin. He couldn't stop himself; his nose nuzzled into dark, curly hair right by the base of Blaine's cock.

"_Kurt_-" the moan was high and breathless, and _of course_, Blaine must have been hard all that time, and wanting, and here Kurt was, teasing.

He took his boyfriend's perfect cock in his hand and stroked, just once, before licking a wet line up, from the base to the very tip of it, all velvet-soft, hot skin. There were already droplets of pre-come gathering in the slit and Kurt licked them off eagerly. He didn't know why, but in his dreams and fantasies the _taste_ of Blaine was always one of the most arousing things for him. Now, in reality, the salty fluid on his tongue made Kurt _moan_ indecently. God, he craved it; he needed more, _more_.

Not wasting any more time, he shifted a little to gain better access and in one swift motion sank his mouth down over his boyfriend's cock. God, it was perfect; thick enough that Kurt had to open his mouth wide, but the slight ache in his jaw felt just _right_. The sound Blaine made above him made him look up; he saw the picture of perfect debauchery, flushed face and wild eyes, mouth open and panting. Blaine moaned again, more desperately.

"Oh god, Kurt, the way you look, with your mouth stretched over my cock… I can't… I don't think I'll last long…"

Kurt let his lips slide off the pink head, just long enough to answer.

"Good. I can't wait to taste you. Don't hold back."

And with this, he was back down, enjoying it as much as Blaine was. He stroked his hand over the part of the shaft he couldn't take in, slid his mouth up and down in slow, sure motion, sucking and swirling his tongue around the tip, humming with how _good_ it felt, and soon Blaine was babbling and saying _yes_, again and again, until he shuddered and came, flooding Kurt's mouth.

* * *

><p>Minutes passed until the analytic part of Kurt's brain switched on again, in time to make him embarrassed for the bold way he had been talking a moment ago – so eager and forward, oh god… But right then Blaine's eyes opened, wide and dazed, and he gathered Kurt to him, cuddled into his chest like he always did, pressing a sloppy kiss into his collarbone.<p>

"Mm, stop that. Think tomorrow. Have all weekend. Cuddle now."

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Changes_


	12. Changes

**12. CHANGES**

That weekend didn't really change anything in their lives, but somehow Blaine couldn't help but think that it had changed _them_ a little. Having all this time to themselves, alone, free to do whatever they wanted to – sleep, cook and eat together, kiss and touch whenever and wherever they wanted to, sing aloud just because they felt like it, and exhaust themselves with sex – it gave them a taste of what it would be like to live together in New York. They couldn't wait.

Crossing the next barrier meant a lot, too. Blaine realized that somehow, somewhere along the way recently he'd changed the way he thought about sex.

Before he had any actual experience with it at all and only based his ideas on theory and some questionable sources like porn and slash Harry Potter fanfiction, he'd been certain there was one, simple way his future sexual relations would progress. Starting with kissing and making out, of course, through handjobs and blowjobs, to fingering and penetrative sex. Blaine had never questioned it; this was the way things worked with gay guys. There were some other things he may want to try, like frottage or even rimming, but the basic path was always clear in his mind.

When he'd thought about it, all these stages of intimacy felt tempting. None of them evoked an immediate protest in his mind. He knew that there were gay men who opted out of certain sexual activities, like penetrative sex, but he wanted to try it all. He'd been curious about what other man's hand would feel like on his cock (different in the most amazing way, he knew now), and what it was like to jerk someone else off (a heady mix of power and tenderness he'd never felt before). He wanted a boy to suck him off (which turned out to be such a perfect mixture of _hot_, _wet_ and _tight_ that his brain still had trouble processing it without giving him an immediate hard-on) and to feel another's dick fill his mouth, in more ways than one (and once he'd tried that, he would never let another drop be wasted again). As for anything penetrative, be it fingering or anal sex, he'd wanted to try, both ways. It used to give him exciting shivers, just thinking about it; the kind of dark, forbidden fruit feeling. But he'd never touched himself that way.

And then the rape happened. It was sudden and invasive to the extreme, and with Blaine having no prior sexual experience at all, it was even more devastating that it might have been otherwise. Now, if he ever thought about penetrative sex, any kind of penetration really, he felt sick. It spelled violence for him, and humiliation, and most of all, pain. A lot of pain. He knew that with consensual sex it would be different, but he couldn't imagine ever letting anyone do this to him again. It would be like willingly opening himself up to torture. And a thought of doing that to Kurt… it was almost as bad. He never, ever, wanted to hurt his boyfriend like that.

And even though his rational mind knew that it would be _nothing _like what Eric had done to him, that with Kurt it would be for pleasure instead, it didn't matter. Blaine wouldn't, _couldn't_ take him, even if Kurt wanted to – and he'd admitted he thought he would, during one of their middle-of-the-night talks – unless he was certain it would not be the sea of pain and helplessness that he remembered. And to be certain, he'd have to first let Kurt in. And he _couldn't_.

All these thoughts and realizations had left Blaine feeling… incomplete. Faulty. Like he would never be able to have _proper_ sex. But now, when they'd had their special night and a whole weekend afterwards, and the sheer number of orgasms per boy left them exhausted and happy and amazed at their stamina, Blaine realized there was nothing incomplete or faulty about his sex life. It may be different from what he'd considered the norm, but it was _his_, and as long as he and Kurt were happy about it, everything was perfect.

It felt like he'd finally left behind a huge boulder of worry that he'd been carrying around for a whole year. Instantly, life was brighter and every little thing made him smile. He realized, astonished, that he became more comfortable with touch, and just felt braver in general. Kurt also seemed changed after their first time – because they agreed that's what it was, and they officially didn't consider themselves virgins anymore afterwards. Even though it wasn't anything immediately noticeable, Kurt had become softer somehow, warmer, more open. In private, they couldn't take their hands off each other; in all truth, it was hard in public, too. Even Santana noticed in the choir room one afternoon and looked at them with that knowing smirk of hers.

The thing was, they finally felt like normal teenagers – horny, hormonal, in love and acting on it. It felt amazing.

* * *

><p>Everyone at McKinley had had a whole school year to get used to the idea that Blaine and Kurt were together. While they didn't kiss or even hold hands in public, they'd never pretended that they weren't a couple. It was noticeable in the way they looked at each other, talked, moved in and out of each other's private space constantly, automatically, without even noticing. It took some time and many unfriendly stares, but by the time prom rolled around, almost everyone in school had gotten bored of the novelty of having an openly gay couple among them and moved on to more interesting things. Most of the students, if asked who that guy talking with Hummel was, would just answer <em>his boyfriend<em>, without giving it any thought.

And while the fact that they'd somehow helped raise the tolerance and openness levels of people at their school felt nice, the actual consequences of this fact were better. Because it meant that when they entered their prom together, both in tuxes with just enough flare to counter the monotony of their understated elegance, hardly anyone gave them a second glance. They were just another high school couple that came to their last school dance together. They were able to have immense fun with the rest of New Directions and dance together much more than once before the prom ended and they went on to Santana's post-prom party.

The actual shock of the evening was when Stanley Dell – a quiet, studious senior who'd never seemed to talk much to anyone during all their years at school – approached Kurt and asked him to dance. And where even a year ago everyone would stare with wide eyes, point fingers and throw snide remarks at this evident coming out, all he got now was some raised eyebrows and a couple of comments about how Hummel was turning people gay left and right. Standing nearby, proud and just a tiny bit jealous, Blaine almost choked on his punch when he saw two younger girls eyeing his boyfriend almost hungrily and heard one of them say _no wonder, I'd turn gay for him too_. Kurt laughed so much after Blaine repeated this for him that he got a fit of hiccoughs.

* * *

><p>Nationals were in Boston, and for Blaine it was extra special, because Warblers had won their Regionals and were there too. This year the New Directions were uncharacteristically prepared weeks ahead, with perfectly rehearsed songs and impressive choreography thanks to Mike and Brittany, so they had plenty of time between rehearsals to socialize and have fun. Getting to meet all their friends from Dalton and spend time with them was a wonderful bonus for both Blaine and Kurt. They were competition, but it didn't feel that way at all. Even though Rachel huffed and forbade the boys to talk about their set list, it had nothing to do with Glee, to be honest. This was probably their last opportunity to meet all of the Warblers – minus the ones who'd graduated last year – together, and especially for Blaine, it meant the world.<p>

The actual competition went well, although not perfectly so. The New Directions came second, the Warblers fifth. And while Rachel considered this a failure, everyone else was pretty satisfied. Getting to sing together at Nationals for the last time in a way that made them proud of themselves was a great memory to save for after they'd said goodbye. Especially since their song selection gave every single senior in the club a chance for a solo, even if it was just a part of a song. They returned from Boston with a sense of achievement, feeling like they'd succeeded in one last thing before graduating.

And that was it. There was a final bout of pre-graduation parties, and then it was time to say goodbye. Most of them would still meet during the summer, of course, before scattering all over the country, but they all knew it wouldn't be the same. They were closing an important chapter of their lives and starting on new roads – roads that they got to choose for themselves and that would lead them who knows where. There could be successes or failures there, happiness or misery; they may get to end up with families or stay alone; do what they dreamed about or drown in bitterness. They could end up anywhere in between. But one destination was certain: adulthood.

* * *

><p>The graduation ceremony was long and strangely moving – Blaine could see that even Kurt teared up a couple of times, though he'd dreamed of this day for years. Finally, after the speeches, the diplomas, the traditional cap-tossing and teary goodbyes, it was time to leave McKinley for the very last time. They looked back once, remembering all the good times, as well as – especially in Kurt's case – the bad ones, and then turned away, set their shoulders and moved on, towards their futures. Or, more precisely, towards the parking lot where their parents were waiting.<p>

Almost everyone celebrated graduation with their families, going out for dinner somewhere. And with few decent restaurants around, every year they were all crowded and loud – not really a place to feel good at. The week before, Blaine's mom had come up with a plan for their own celebration. When she called Carole, it quickly snowballed out of control.

The weather was beautiful – fortunately, because they were having a garden party at the Andersons' house. Beside Kurt and Blaine, and their families, there were also Rachel with her dads and, because Rachel really wanted her biological mom to be there for her, Ms. Corcoran with Beth. Blaine's mom employed the team they always used for company parties, so everything was prepared and served professionally. It all seemed a little daunting, even to Blaine – like being in a private, outdoor restaurant.

But soon enough, over the excellent meal, the weirdness wore off and they had a great time, reminiscing over the last four years – after a while even the adults pitched in with stories about their own high school lives. Rachel started to sing with Finn at some point, excerpts of songs they'd done in Glee over the years, and soon both Kurt and Blaine joined in, and so did, surprisingly, Ms. Corcoran. It turned into quite a performance, which the others watched with big smiles and rewarded with a standing ovation afterwards.

Then, over desserts and coffee, the discussion turned to the plans, dreams and expectations of the four graduates. Finn was the only one of them to stay in Ohio – he would be studying at the Columbus University. Rachel, just like Kurt and Blaine, had chosen New York and had been accepted at NYADA, which Kurt had initially considered too. Both she and Finn would live in dorms, at least for their freshman year. Blaine and Kurt stood by their plan to live together, of course.

The afternoon slowly turned into a warm summer evening. Beth, who had been running around the garden barefooted in her summer dress, started to yawn widely and everyone seemed to take it as a signal to go home. Rachel and her group departed first, and as soon as they did, Blaine's dad stood with an earnest expression, drawing everyone's attention.

"Burt, Carole, if you don't mind… There's one more thing we'd like to say today, and since it involves Kurt, I'd love for you to stay a bit longer."

Kurt's parents looked at each other, surprised, but sat back down. Blaine had no idea what this was about as he looked at his dad's unreadable face from his place by Kurt's side.

"Blaine, we want you to know that we're very proud of you. Despite having every possible difficulty thrown in your face in the last four years, you managed to not only survive, but to succeed academically and artistically, and you've proven to be an exceptional young man. We'd like to give you this little thing. We trust that you're mature enough to use it wisely."

Blaine felt himself tear up. These words - it was something he'd dreamed of for so many years, never actually believing he would ever hear them. He stood up to hug both his parents - his dad's embrace curt and stiff, but tight, his mom's warm and heartfelt.

Once he dried his eyes and sat back down, his father went to the cabinet standing on the patio and took a simple black folder lying there. He slipped it across the table to Blaine, who opened it, confused. There was a small map of New York there, with some signs and routes added in different colored markers. Under the map, on some papers, was a picture of a door. Just door, midnight blue, with a number 7 painted on in silver. Blaine looked at his parents, trying to understand. His mom laughed.

"Look underneath, silly."

So he took out the boring looking papers and looked through them, understanding slowly making its way into his shocked mind. It wasn't… Surely it couldn't be…? It all fit – his name, all the data, his dad's signature... But it was impossible, there had to be some mistake. Blaine couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing; he looked up at his parents, eyes wide.

"You… you bought me… an apartment."

His father smiled and pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

"Yes. And since you two have already said today that you still intend to live together, here's something for both of you."

With this, he placed the objects he held in his hand before Kurt, who looked about as shocked as Blaine felt.

Two identical sets of keys with beautiful silver keychains, one featuring a decorative _K_, the other _B_, gleamed in the setting sun.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_New_


	13. New

**A/N: **_*evil author alert* I'm terribly sorry for what I'm about to do and for ruining your weekend. Please don't kill me. I'm actually really nice. Mostly. Um. *hides*_

* * *

><p><strong>13. NEW<strong>

The summer flew by surprisingly fast as they tried to catch last moments and last memories of a passing era. While the summer before had been a time to be together as much as they could, this year it wasn't the first priority for either Kurt or Blaine. They knew there would be time for that – a lot of time alone together, to do whatever they wanted. That was their future.

But here, and now, time was passing and things would never be the same again. Soon, they'd become guests in their family homes. And they'd probably never get to spend so much time with as many of their friends all together again. So they lived in the moment for all of June and July; their sleepovers less frequent than ever, their time to be alone and intimate reduced to mere hours – only twice in those two months. They didn't mind.

They spent time with their families instead – quality time, greedily gathering beautiful memories to warm them when they missed home, months from now. They went for another hiking trip like last year – even Blaine's parents joined them for the final three days, although they slept in a camper.

They met with friends for pool parties, bonfires, coffee; to talk some more, to remember, and to take more memories of the good things into their futures. It was usually the New Directions crowd, sometimes accompanied by some of the Warblers. They were young, without major obligations yet, with nothing much restricting their time and freedom – it wouldn't be like this for much longer.

Kurt and Blaine were among the first ones to leave. They'd decided to go to New York at the beginning of August, to have time to move in and settle down properly, get used to living together and on their own, and see as much of the city as they could before starting their classes. There was one last farewell party, and August 1st saw them in a rented van, with Kurt's dad and Blaine's mom, heading towards New York.

* * *

><p>All the bags and boxes had been hauled in. They'd eaten a late dinner with their parents who would be driving home early the next morning, after spending the night in a hotel. There'd been tight hugs then, teary eyes and <em>I love you<em>'s, and waving until the van disappeared behind a corner. Before they knew it, they were in the apartment – _their_ apartment – alone and quiet, standing there together, as if only now realizing.

This was happening.

It was no longer a dream, some fantasy life they'd talked about and imagined. This was _real_. They were in New York, together, in their own place – well, technically Blaine's, but it wasn't about ownership. This was their life now. They'd _made_ it.

Kurt turned to look at Blaine, whose eyes were as wide and astonished as his own felt. For a moment, they just looked at each other before Blaine pulled him closer to kiss him softly on the lips.

"We're here."

"We are."

* * *

><p>The apartment had been redecorated and furnished for them – Blaine's mom had spent a week here in May, after they'd bought it, supervising everything herself, and Kurt loved the effect. Her taste was impeccable and the space was perfect for their needs. There was a bedroom with a queen size bed, and the thought that it would be – no, it <em>was<em> – _their_ bed made Kurt's heart race. The living room featured a large couch, armchairs, a coffee table and a big flat-screen TV. There was also the study that they both loved immediately – with plenty of bookshelves and a long desk taking up all of the opposite wall, complemented by two ergonomic desk chairs and good lighting. All of their things fit in easily; they would both be able to study without feeling crowded.

The kitchen had been equipped for their needs, with pots and pans, crockery and cutlery. There was a toaster and a microwave, and a quality coffee maker that made them both sigh in delight. In a cabinet, there were even some basic non-perishables, and a bag of excellent coffee beans resided in the fridge. Obviously, Blaine's mom knew their addictions all too well. The bathroom had a shower, not a tub, but it was large enough for two and Kurt felt a delicious shiver run down his spine at the thought of showering together… maybe, one day.

They spent the next two hours removing the protective plastic covers from furniture, making the bed and unpacking the most essential things, music playing quietly in the background. Soon, the bathroom was ready and their clothes had been placed in the large closet and dressers, even if they weren't color-ordered yet. The bed looked more and more inviting with every passing minute, so they left the rest of unpacking for the next day.

* * *

><p>When they met in the bedroom after taking their turns showering, it felt a little like a first time – a bit shy, hesitant, almost sacred. Every kiss, every touch was slow and filled with so much love it trembled around the edges. They spent long, quiet moments getting reacquainted with each other's bodies, exploring every new freckle and tan line, remembering it all anew. When Blaine's hands finally slid down, Kurt felt a sudden rush of daring.<p>

"Take them off."

Blaine's head shot up from where he was licking around Kurt's bellybutton.

"What?"

"Take my pants off. Please."

"But Kurt, I… I'm not…"

He could see the worry, almost fear in Blaine's eyes, so he pulled him up so that they were face to face.

"Blaine, I know. You're not ready. I'm not asking _you_ to get naked. But _I'm_ ready to be naked with you, is that okay? I want you to undress me completely; to be able to see all of me. Touch all of me. It doesn't mean you should feel obliged to do the same. It's about _me_ being ready, I took my time to get there and here I am. You'll get there when you get there. No pressure. No expectations. Okay?"

He could feel Blaine relax in his arms, so he leaned in to kiss him, deep and languid. When he pulled back, Blaine smiled wickedly, his voice rough.

"God, I've dreamed of you naked for so long…"

And then his hands were back at Kurt's hips, pulling his pajama pants down, lower than ever, until they were off completely and Blaine was _staring_. Kurt felt himself blush, but refused to be embarrassed. He laughed softly.

"Like what you see?"

Blaine glanced at Kurt's face, but his eyes immediately returned lower, as if pulled by an invisible string.

"Your pants are always so tight; I should be long used to the idea of you having absolutely fantastic legs. But seeing you like this… Can I hide all your clothes just to be able to see you naked all the time?"

"That might be impractical – what if I had to go out? But I promise to go naked for you, as often as you want."

Blaine groaned and slid his hands up Kurt's thighs before following the movement with his tongue.

They made love to each other that night languidly, worshiping with their hands and lips before falling asleep tangled together. Kurt woke up the next morning to Blaine's hand stroking a warm line up the back of his thigh to his still bare hip, and decided that sleeping naked was the best thing ever.

* * *

><p>They spent the weeks before school started getting settled in the apartment and used to living with each other full time. It wasn't all that difficult – Blaine had spent so many nights at Kurt's that they knew each other's habits and quirks pretty well already and had no problem with them. But still, there were things to be learned, discuss and sometimes compromise about.<p>

They figured out how to divide house chores between the two of them (Kurt cooked and did laundry, Blaine cleaned and washed the dishes); learned that each of them needed time for himself every now and then; talked about money, bills and shopping. Blaine quickly learned not to leave dirty socks anywhere but the laundry bag; Kurt stopped hogging all available surfaces in the bathroom with his beauty products. Fortunately, they were both fairly tidy and easy-going, so the adaptation period went smooth and without conflicts. Besides, being able to talk, touch, hug and kiss whenever they felt like it helped to dissolve any gathering tension.

They didn't spend _all_ their time at home, of course. They wandered the city, getting familiar with the parts of it that would soon become their everyday destinations; they managed to see three plays on Broadway and many interesting places they'd missed the last time they'd been here. They found a café near their apartment that they both loved and a wonderful little bakery just two doors down from theirs. It was time well spent. They loved New York, loved living together even more. When classes started, they were ready and eager for their next big adventure.

And it proved to be great; so different from Lima, Ohio. Here, Kurt's outfits were admired, not laughed at. Arriving to class holding hands with Blaine caused nothing more than smiles or, in some cases, disappointed expressions (from both girls _and_ boys). Here, they were not only allowed to be who they were, but encouraged to be themselves and express that. Kurt loved that. He felt entirely in his element studying musical theater, and being universally well-liked and popular among peers was a completely new, wonderful experience for him. He dove into student life like he was born for it.

Blaine enjoyed it too, both studying and social life. Often, he went out for coffee with Kurt and their new group of friends, but they didn't share all of their classes and he was doing pre-business too, so his free time was quite limited. And when they both found jobs – Kurt working afternoons at a men's boutique, Blaine on a shifting schedule at a music café – getting out together to meet other people became even more difficult. But it didn't matter all that much. They spent plenty of time together; passionate and cuddly nights, lazy mornings, hours spent studying side by side in classes and at home, weekends to do whatever they felt like together. Spending time separately with other friends was normal; it was healthy even, for their relationship.

Or so Kurt thought.

* * *

><p>He first realized something was wrong in the middle of September. It was the third time this week that Blaine came home tense and uneasy. But when Kurt tried to learn what was bothering him, Blaine just shrugged and gave him a smile that looked only a little forced.<p>

"I'm just a bit stressed. Don't worry."

So Kurt didn't. He made chamomile tea for Blaine and gave him a long, relaxing backrub. Then they went to bed and Blaine quickly freed him from his pajamas (staying in his own pants; the moment would come when it came) and proceeded to rock Kurt's world with a blowjob that left him a weak, trembling mess. When did Blaine learn to deepthroat? Not that Kurt was complaining.

By October, Blaine started to have nightmares again. They didn't happen often at first, but by the end of the month he was waking up screaming and shaking almost every night and it took him hours to get back to sleep in Kurt's arms afterwards. He'd become more clingy, too, more eager than ever to be close, as close as possible, which Kurt associated with the nightmares. Blaine was obviously feeling insecure, and it was natural, of course, with the stress of so many major changes in his life. But he said it was temporary and nothing to worry about, so Kurt was understanding and soothing, and spent as much time with his boyfriend as he could. He didn't mind that Blaine was practically glued to his side every time they went out with friends. When Blaine teased that he was flirting with other men, Kurt laughed it off.

Only it stopped being funny pretty quickly and became annoying. Because what started as joking soon began to sound more and more like accusation. And it wasn't like Kurt really did anything inappropriate. Yes, he talked with people, laughed with them. Blaine was right there, participating in the same conversations, yet somehow he seemed to see something completely different. Kurt was apparently _flirting_, he was _loving their attention_, _looking at other men like he wanted to fuck them_. And no matter how many times Kurt denied and explained, and assured Blaine that he was the only one he wanted, nothing seemed to get through to him. Frankly, it was starting to scare him, the changes he saw in Blaine. He became needy in bed, asking Kurt again and again if he liked what they did, if he loved him. Twice, they argued about Blaine seeing things that obviously weren't there in Kurt's behavior towards other people, accusing him of looking at them with open desire.

The third time it happened, in the first week of November, was once too many. Up until that night, Kurt had been understanding and patient, and nothing but loving. But when Blaine yelled at him – for the first time ever really _yelled _at him, it was all too much. Kurt hadn't left his side the whole evening, and yet Blaine was angry at him for daring to _talk _with another guy from their classes. For Kurt, it was the last straw, and when he exploded, it was with all the hurt and anger of weeks of accusations and distrust.

"No! Fuck, Blaine, how can you even think I'd want another guy?"

"Oh well, let's see, you were _smiling_ at him seductively and _talking_ to him an awful lot-" Blaine's voice was cold and hard, like a stranger's.

"It's called _social interaction_, Blaine. And Joe is a friend from class, you know that, damn it!"

"Well, maybe you'd be better off with him then."

Kurt felt a pressing need to punch something but he forced himself to calm down.

"You still don't trust me, Blaine. After all this time, no matter what I say or do, you still doubt me. And I can't-"

The words were forced out through gritted teeth, incredulous; angry flush high on his cheeks, and then Kurt was up and marching quickly to the door.

"You know what, I've had enough of this. I need a little time. Alone. I'll be back."

* * *

><p>The apartment door slammed with a force that shook Blaine like a gunshot.<p>

He curled in on himself and sobbed.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Bare_


	14. Bare

**14. BARE**

It took Kurt hours to calm down enough to be sure he wouldn't risk cutting Blaine with his words when they talked. Because damn it, they _would_ talk, even if he had to force Blaine to speak. But not like this; not when Kurt's temper, always so easy to keep in check around Blaine, was flaring. Kurt knew how to hurt with words, he'd learned it early enough; he could pierce deep and aim where it hurt most. And with the state of his mind tonight, the few drinks he'd had and his perfect knowledge of _all_ of Blaine's weak points… well, it would have been a fucking bloodbath if he hadn't walked out.

Kurt was furious, so mad he wanted to scream and punch things – so he did, in the middle of a large empty park several blocks from their apartment. Once his throat felt raw and his knuckles stopped throbbing – at least mostly – from assaulting a tree, he ran along the pathways until his lungs hurt and his legs felt like jelly. Only then was he able to slow down and walk to a nearby 24-hour coffee shop, where he spent the next four hours, drinking coffee after coffee, contemplating his shredded hand and thinking.

The force of his anger stunned him, now that he'd calmed down a little. He'd gone from mildly irritated to close to exploding in under five minutes. It felt like every little hurt and annoyance with Blaine that Kurt had ever felt and pushed down had blown up all at once. It scared him, but also made him realize how used he was to suppressing any negative emotions when it came to Blaine.

It had started right after the rape, when Blaine had simply been too broken to deal with Kurt's emotions in addition to his own. Somehow, by the time he'd become whole and strong again, Kurt had learned to instinctively hide any sign of irritation or hurt Blaine ever accidentally caused. And he hadn't even realized it up until now.

This was some serious food for thought though; things couldn't go on this way. It was not only unhealthy to bottle things up, but potentially destructive for their relationship in the long run. It would lead to frustration and resentment. He – no, _they _– would have to work on that. Among other things. The first of which was Blaine's sudden paranoia and jealousy, and his constant nightmares; they couldn't be attributed to _just stress_ anymore. There was more to it and Kurt was going to find out what it was. And then figure out how to help. He breathed deeply, calm finally settling in his bones and enveloping his mind, even though he was starting to feel jittery from the amount of caffeine he'd consumed.

He wanted his sweet, amazing boyfriend back. He wanted Blaine to be happy and feel safe with him again.

Kurt left his unfinished coffee and went home.

* * *

><p>Dawn was beginning to color the sky pale pink when Kurt entered the apartment, stepping quietly. He expected to find Blaine in bed, but the room was empty. He looked in the living room, and there he was, exactly where Kurt left him hours ago – curled in an obviously uncomfortable position against the armrest, asleep. Blaine's face was tense, his eyes puffy, tear tracks dried on his cheeks.<p>

Kurt knelt down by the couch and laid a gentle hand on Blaine's stubble-covered cheek. Amber eyes blinked open immediately, a bit unfocused from sleep, but flooding with relief as soon as Blaine registered his presence. Kurt's heart ached with love; he leaned in to capture his boyfriend's lips in a soft, apologetic kiss.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I love you so much, Blaine. You and no one else. I don't want other guys, never did. I chose _you_, I'll always choose you, for _life_, if you let me. But I don't know what else I can do or say for you to believe it. I can't _make you_ trust me, Blaine. And it hurts that you don't, not fully. But-"

But he didn't finish what he wanted to say or promise, because then Blaine's head was on his shoulder, his arms tight around Kurt's waist and his lips speaking urgently into the skin of his neck.

"I know, Kurt. I'm so sorry. I love you."

They stayed like that, clinging to each other tightly, trying not to imagine what it would be like if they let anything break them apart.

* * *

><p>Blaine felt his heart slow down at last, his body relax for the first time in hours, maybe days. It was like immersing himself in warm water and letting it carry him, hold his weight. It was time to let go. He couldn't do this by himself anymore.<p>

"I keep seeing you go," he whispered hoarsely against Kurt's skin, opening the gates and hoping that the flood that was sure to come wouldn't be the end of them.

"What?" Kurt's arms tightened around Blaine's shoulders.

"In my dreams. The nightmares. They aren't about Eric, they're about you." He heard Kurt inhale sharply. "I keep dreaming about you telling me you don't want to be with me anymore. Or seeing you with another guy, kissing, sometimes having sex. But the worst one is where I think I'm waking up and you're not there, and neither are any of your things; it's like you've never even lived here. Like I've imagined you."

Kurt's hand was stroking soothing circles on his back, and he wasn't letting go. Kurt got him, he was safe. But it was only the beginning.

"I'm afraid, Kurt. I'm so fucking afraid to lose you. It rips me apart and all the ugly things come out; the jealousy, the possessiveness. I can't contain it, it's like some monster taking over and I can only stand back and watch it hurt you. I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm so, so sorry."

Kurt's voice was calm when he pulled back enough to look Blaine in the eyes.

"You don't trust me."

"No! No, that's not it, of course I trust you. There's no one I trust _more_ than you."

"And yet, you still don't trust me completely. Not enough to believe me when I keep saying I'd never leave you. Why, Blaine?"

"I… Because…" Oh god, it was so _obvious_! Why did he even have to spell it out? "Kurt, I'd _understand_ if you left me. I just keep waiting for the axe to drop, you know? It has nothing to do with trust."

He dared to look up again and found such a deep sadness in Kurt's eyes that his heart nearly broke. Kurt stroked his face, his touch achingly tender.

"It has _everything _to do with trust. You don't trust me to mean what I say or know what I want. Why, Blaine? Do you see me as unreliable or stupid? Have I even said or done anything to make you doubt me?"

Blaine shook his head vehemently, his eyes wide.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why, Blaine? Please, explain it to me."

"It's just… Fuck. Kurt, isn't it obvious? You're one of the smartest guys I know, you're gorgeous, you're talented; why would you choose to stay with _me_ when you can do so much better here?"

The look on Kurt's face made him look anything but smart. He shook his head.

"I still don't understand why you keep insisting anyone else would be better for me."

Fuck, was Kurt being deliberately obtuse?

"Because of what I am, Kurt! You can have anyone here; guys hit on you left and right, you can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Kurt shrugged.

"Okay, maybe I have. So what?"

"So what? We're not in Ohio anymore, Kurt! I'm no longer the only gay guy around. You have your pick of handsome, interesting, _whole_ men here. You can have someone who won't freak out when you touch his ass by accident, someone who will have sex with you however and whenever you want. Who isn't broken and weak and-"

The flash of anger in Kurt's eyes when he straightened rapidly out of Blaine's embrace was something he hadn't seen for a long time. Kurt's voice was low and quiet when he spoke, keeping Blaine's eyes like his life depended on it.

"You know what, I'm done hiding being hurt or angry at you, because those feelings are part of our relationship too. And right now I'm angry, Blaine. So I'll spell it out for you, just once. Do with it what you want, okay?"

Blaine nodded his head, his heart somewhere around his trachea, making it hard to breathe, let alone answer. Kurt nodded too, all business now.

"Look at your hand, Blaine. See this ring? This is my promise. I made it then and I make it now; not because I have no other choice or I feel like I need to. I _chose_ you, Blaine, and I _still_ choose you, I always will. It was a conscious decision, the only one I could make, because I _love _you. I want _you_, not anyone else. I don't care about other guys, or what I could do with them."

"But you said you wanted to try-"

"Yes, I would say yes to trying anal sex _if you ever wanted to_. That's the important part. Not with anyone else, just _you_."

"But I'll never be able to give you that."

"And it's fine."

"But-"

"Blaine." Kurt's face softened, his hands came up to cup Blaine's face and only now did he notice that one of them was swollen and bloody. "The _only _thing that I feel is missing from our sex life is seeing you naked. And I know that one day we'll get there. You may find this hard to believe sometimes, but you're not broken, baby. The way I see you? You're beautiful, strong and perfect, and the only man I want, forever. But I refuse to change myself to prove it to you, Blaine. I won't stop meeting my friends or talking to other people to make you believe me. I promise I'm not going to leave you, or cheat on you, ever. But your inability to trust me – I don't think I can do anything more about it. Like I said, I can't make you."

Blaine's eyes were full of tears that finally brimmed and spilled over to meet Kurt's thumbs as they brushed his cheeks.

"I know. I'll work on it. Just, like you said… It's hard to believe, sometimes. That I could be your first choice."

"You are. Do you think you need help with this? Meeting with a counselor maybe?"

"Maybe. I'll call Bonnie; she said to contact her if I had any problems adapting to the new circumstances."

"Okay. That's a good idea, I think. Are we good, then?"

"We are. But you aren't. What happened to your hand?"

Kurt shrugged dismissively.

"I had an altercation with a tree."

_Oh_. Blaine stood up from the couch, his muscles aching after spending hours curled up. He took Kurt's good hand.

"Come on, we need to clean this up." Kurt started to protest, but he cut him off. "Let me take care of you. Please."

* * *

><p>After Kurt's hand had been cleaned up and bandaged – fortunately no serious damage was done – they went to bed and slept until noon, holding to each other as tight as possible. Blaine decided to stay at home that day; he didn't feel up to social interaction. Kurt went to meet with their study group in the library. As soon as he left, Blaine called his therapist. He was lucky to catch her at home with some time to spare, so she recommended a session through Skype like she sometimes did in emergency situations with her patients. An hour, lots of his rambling and a dozen of just the right questions later, Blaine took off his headphones, head spinning.<p>

_Wow. _He _did _have trust issues.

Which was quite understandable, considering the fact that the last man he'd opened himself up to, whom he'd trusted with his body and feelings, had raped him. But this was about _Kurt_ now. Kurt, whom he was positive he _could_ trust with his life, and his mind knew this perfectly well. He just needed to somehow convince his subconscious.

And, to his surprise, he learned that his reluctance to let Kurt see him naked, which had been worrying him more and more lately, was probably directly connected to his inability to completely trust his boyfriend. Now _that _was food for thought.

* * *

><p>And think he did. Over the next few days Blaine did a lot of thinking – pondering, imagining, organizing stuff in his head. He was often quiet, sometimes anxious; thankfully Kurt gave him the space he needed, yet always stayed close, in case Blaine wanted to talk or cuddle. Because that was what he'd always done – understood him and his needs, and respected them. Just another reason why Blaine knew he could trust Kurt with anything, always.<p>

A week passed before Blaine felt ready to try and ease himself slowly, gradually into trusting completely, opening up more. The weather was dreadful that Friday and after coming from their afternoon classes soaked through and freezing, they decided to spend a quiet evening in bed with movies and hot chocolate.

Blaine was stepping out of the shower where he'd been warming up, when just like that, it hit him – he wanted to _do_ this, to take that first step he'd been thinking about. The moment just felt right. And even though his body reacted instinctively, tensing with anxiety again as soon as he thought about what he was going to do, he knew now it didn't have to rule him. He dried himself quickly and wrapped the fluffy green towel around his waist before exiting the bathroom for the bedroom. Kurt glanced up at Blaine from the bed, where he'd been sitting with his laptop, and his mouth fell open. It looked like he stopped breathing entirely.

His hands trembling slightly, Blaine reached to loosen the towel and let it fall to the floor. Kurt gasped, his eyes wide and dark, unblinking, glued to Blaine's body. He looked so awed, so aroused that any remaining doubts Blaine might have had left as he stood naked for a while longer. Finally, Kurt licked his lips and spoke, almost reverently.

"Oh god. You're so… so perfect. So beautiful, Blaine. Sometimes I still can't believe you're mine."

Blaine laughed softly.

"Always yours. But… I'll just go grab my pants, okay? Babysteps; I need to get used to this."

"Of course, you're the one leading here."

Blaine smiled and turned to go to the bathroom for his pajamas. He heard a desperate moan and looked over his shoulder fast enough to see Kurt press a hand to the bulge in his pants as he spoke, his voice considerably lower.

"Okay, I'll leave that comment about your ass for when you're more comfortable with this. For now I'm pretty speechless anyway."

Blaine smirked.

They ended up giving up on the movie after half an hour, when they realized neither of them remembered a thing they'd seen so far. They turned off the laptop and spent a long, cozy evening, working on their, um… manual and oral performance. After midnight, when they lay spent and exhausted, their legs tangled together and their skin hypersensitive, Kurt murmured, almost on the verge of sleep.

"I've wanted to ask you for some time… Where did your sudden ability to deepthroat come from?"

Blaine blushed.

"I, um… might have practiced. On bananas. And read about it. Just… for science, you know."

"Uhm. I love that inquisitive mind of yours. You must point me to your sources one day. I wanna learn too."

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter:<strong> _Complete_


	15. Complete

**A/N: **_Announcement 1__: There are only two chapters left after this one. Chapter 16 will be published as usual, on Friday, and then chapter 17 will be a late Christmas present – looong and up on Tuesday, 27 Dec._

_Announcement 2__: This chapter is rated R. And I mean, 2500 words of R material. Make sure your boss isn't standing behind you if you're reading at work. Have fun :)_

* * *

><p><strong>15. COMPLETE<strong>

Being naked in Kurt's presence became easy and natural quickly. Blaine made sure to get changed in their bedroom in the mornings and evenings, and Kurt never missed a chance to watch him, wide-eyed and adorably awed every single time. He looked, but never touched; never even coming close. Just like he'd said – it was up to Blaine where he wanted to take this next and when.

It felt so good to be comfortable in his own skin again, to feel safe opening up even that little bit more. And yet, after several days, being naked alone wasn't enough anymore. Feeling Kurt's eyes caress and touch every bit of his skin, Blaine felt more and more hungry for his hands to do the same; for his lips to follow. Blaine kept prolonging those moments – pretending to be looking for just the right shirt in the closet, or getting caught up in responding to a text. Honestly, he just wanted to linger in this new type of intimacy a little longer. The fear wasn't gone, but somehow it had moved from being a huge boulder commanding Blaine's attention to something small and shriveled at the back of his mind. Occasionally it weakly whispered _danger_ when he dared to imagine what it might be like to go further.

Then one day, just as Kurt was turning the water on in the shower, his imagination said _screw this, go try it yourself_. Before he had time to hesitate, Blaine was naked and entering the bathroom. Kurt's voice soaring in a song and the sound of water drowned Blaine's footsteps, so when he slid the glass door open and stepped into the steamy cabin, Kurt literally jumped. And then almost slid to the floor when he realized what was happening.

They were taking a shower, together. Naked. Blaine knew perfectly well this was one of Kurt's biggest fantasies.

It was hard to see clearly through the steam and the multitude of emotions on Kurt's face, but Blaine was pretty sure _happiness_, _pride_ and _love _were among the most prominent. These, and undeniable arousal. Blaine felt a little turned on too, but he wasn't sure how far he wanted to go yet – he'd decide as they went. The only thing he was certain he wanted was to be touched – anywhere, everywhere, standing bare with his boyfriend. And what better way than doing what showers were designed for?

Blaine picked up the bottle of Kurt's favorite shower gel, poured some into his own cupped hand and asked.

"May I?"

Kurt nodded, breathless, like he couldn't believe this was happening.

Blaine spread the gel between his palms and stood behind Kurt to glide them over his impossibly smooth skin, heated and pink from the water. He slid his hands over the planes of Kurt's back, from the nape of his neck down his spine, massaging the tension of a long day out. Running his fingers down Kurt's arms, dragging lightly over the crooks of his elbows was a sure way to make Kurt shiver and gasp; tonight was no different. Kurt leaned back against him, the slight pressure of his ass on Blaine's cock making them both moan. But it wasn't about sex, not yet anyway. Blaine kept going, spreading the lather down Kurt's chest, his stomach, hips. His hands on Kurt's hard dick, his balls, in his pubic hair were quick and efficient, just washing, nothing more, but Kurt whimpered, his hips stuttering forward to get more pressure, more slide, more _anything_.

He would have to wait, though. Blaine moved to stand before Kurt and without a word, dropped to his knees. He poured some more gel and slid his hands up Kurt's legs to the crease of his thighs, fingers stroking, dragging. By the time he was done, Kurt was panting above him, moaning almost constantly.

Blaine stood again, his heart pounding, breath hitching. Did he dare do it? Would Kurt let him? Standing in front of his boyfriend, he lay his slick hands on Kurt's hips and slowly, giving him time to protest, slid his hands over Kurt's ass. Dragging his fingers in languid circles, Blaine covered the perfect muscles in lather and, without stopping to think, slid his thumb, feather-light, over the cleft, all the way down to Kurt's slightly parted thighs.

Blaine had never heard Kurt sound so turned on, so desperate before. He was pushing his hips forward, until he found the friction he needed against Blaine's stomach and cried out. Breathing softly against Kurt's ear, Blaine whispered.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

His right hand was still between Kurt's thighs at this point, stroking lightly over his perineum. Blaine had to support Kurt with an arm around his waist, he was shaking so hard. He continued the way he'd started, just washing. Moving his hand up, between Kurt's ass cheeks, slowly but surely, fingers dragging over the soft skin there, over the tight bud of his hole for the first time. Once again, down now – just to be thorough.

And then Kurt moaned Blaine's name, pressing hard against his stomach, keening and pulsing, and spilling hot all over Blaine's skin.

Oh. _Oh_. Just from _that_?

Wow.

Kurt leaned against him, completely relaxed, for a long while until his breathing returned to normal. When he finally raised his head from Blaine's shoulder, his eyes looked happy, sated and… shy? Kissing Blaine's lips softly, he asked.

"Would you let me do it too? I mean, wash you."

Blaine smiled, hardly any uncertainty left.

"I'd like that."

* * *

><p>Kurt's hands were magic as they smoothed over Blaine's skin, covering every single inch of it in lather. He mirrored Blaine's actions from before, languidly, conscientiously washing his back and shoulders, his torso and arms. By the time Kurt's hand slid down from his waist, Blaine was already humming with pleasure. It felt good and safe; his cock between Kurt's slippery fingers was hard and eager.<p>

When Kurt knelt down on the shower floor, Blaine expected him to do what he'd done – just keep washing him. So Kurt's lips on his freshly-rinsed cock were a surprise, but oh – definitely not an unwanted one. He loved Kurt's lips – pink and full, they looked amazing, stretched over his thickness like this, and the things Kurt could do with his tongue were pretty much indescribable, at least in any coherent way. Blaine's moans and whimpers intensified even more with firm, practiced fingers stroking his thighs, the back of his knees, the sensitive arches of his feet.

By the time Kurt's hands traveled back up, Blaine was pretty much a mess – _want_ singing in his blood and tensing his muscles, making him forget his inhibitions and just _feel_. For the last couple of minutes Kurt had been focusing his attention on Blaine's sack, licking, laving, sucking gently – something they'd barely done so far, because clothing was always in the way – and it was a whole new, amazing world of pleasure that took them both by surprise. Blaine was actually so close to coming that he groaned loudly with disappointment when Kurt's perfect lips moved away.

But when his boyfriend stood up and pressed up against him, leaning in for a kiss, Blaine realized that he wasn't the only one with throbbing erection anymore. It looked like Kurt enjoyed taking care of Blaine just as much as Blaine loved his ministrations. Kurt dropped his lips to suck on Blaine's neck now, speaking between the kisses.

"I'd like to try something, if you don't mind." Blaine could only moan his assent when Kurt's tongue swirled over that perfect spot under his jaw. "After I'm done with what I've been doing here."

With that, Kurt's hands were on his hips, clutching lightly, unmoving, and Blaine tensed. This was the moment he was afraid of, but wanted at the same time, if only to try and snap out of that fear. To prove to himself that he could – and would – trust Kurt. He didn't feel forced or pushed – nothing like that. But letting himself to be touched like this wasn't exactly a turn-on. Nothing about his ass was. It was more about turning a trigger into another safe, normal thing, so that he could stop jumping out of his skin every time Kurt's hand slid there in the heat of the moment.

Kurt was clearly waiting for permission, so Blaine took a deep breath and nodded, his erection already weakening. Slowly, lovingly, his boyfriend's hands smoothed over his ass as Kurt groaned against the skin of his neck.

"God, Blaine, you have no idea what you are doing to me, do you? You're so hot, so _perfect_, I could look at you forever and never get tired. I seriously regret that I only have two hands, because I want to be able to touch you anywhere and everywhere at the same time. I want to kiss and lick you all over. And your ass, god… Don't even get me started on your ass. It's so round and firm and perfect; my hands fit like they were created to be here, and I'm rambling now because... you..."

Blaine wasn't sure if it was because of Kurt's reaction or his words, but he felt himself relaxing into where Kurt's hands kept stroking and circling, as if unable to get enough. Surprisingly, it felt fine. Good even – not the sexual, arousing type of good; simply the pleasure of loving touch. He laughed softly to himself, happy. So far, so good. He thought he was ready for one last step.

"Kurt, you can-"

Eyes, blurry grey in the steamy air, looked up at Blaine, stunned.

"You… you want me to touch you… _there_?"

"Only if you want to." He answered hastily. "And I can't promise I won't stop you. But… yeah. Please."

Never breaking eye contact, Kurt smoothed his right hand down the crack of Blaine's ass, just touching feather-light over skin, nothing more. Then he slid it up, gliding his still slippery fingers between the cheeks and Blaine stopped breathing. Kurt's fingers were gone before he was able to fully measure his reaction, so he whispered.

"Again."

Kurt gathered some more lather off his ass and slowly, gently repeated the movement, up and down. Now that Blaine knew what to expect, it wasn't such a shock. And while he still tensed all over, it wasn't bad. There was no fear in his reaction, like he expected there to be, just an unpleasant memory that made him cringe a little. There was no actual pleasure or arousal either, but honestly, he'd be really surprised if there was.

Yes, he could get used to this.

Kurt was watching him with anxious eyes and Blaine smiled.

"I'm good. Not turned on, but good. I think… I think I may get to like this, one day."

Kurt laughed, delighted, and pressed closer, diving into a hot, passionate kiss. Lips sliding, tongues dancing around each other and the perfect contours of Kurt's body molded firmly against his own, skin to skin – it felt safe and perfect. Without the distraction of nerves, Blaine found himself react again, immediately. Kurt murmured against his lips.

"Let me do something about the _not turned on_ part, will you? I told you I wanted to try something."

"Okay?"

Without moving away, Kurt shifted his hips a little bit, slotted them _just right_ and… _Holy shit_. Suddenly there was so much of everything; the perfect drag of slick skin on skin, nerves alighting like New York at night where the heads of their cocks pressed and slid together, Kurt's hands wandering across his lower back while his lips roamed Blaine's neck and throat. The heat, the water touching his skin like hundreds of tiny fingers, hot and careless, the sounds there were both making. Lost in the sensations, Blaine found himself unable to tell where he ended and everything else began. He was happy to drift on the currents of sensual pleasure until they drowned him, only to carry him gently to a shore of satisfied exhaustion.

They were both breathing hard, spent and suddenly overheated in the steamed-up shower, but grinning like crazy. It was _so much_, such a big step forward, opening up so many new possibilities for them, removing barriers they'd been stumbling over all this time.

They quickly rinsed themselves clean and Kurt reached with a slightly shaky hand to turn off the water. They kept laughing, light and happy whenever they looked at each other while drying themselves off. Then, already in the bedroom, Kurt smiled.

"So, can we sleep naked tonight?"

Blaine considered it for a moment before shaking his head.

"Give me some more time, okay? I don't know why, but I feel like sleeping naked makes me even more vulnerable than what we just did, somehow. But soon, I promise."

"Of course, whenever you want to. I love you, you know?"

"I know. I love you too."

* * *

><p>It took several days, in the end. One night, dead tired after a hard day, Blaine just slumped against Kurt and mumbled.<p>

"Undress me?"

Kurt looked surprised for about a second, then did just that, with loving fingers caressing skin, shedding one piece of clothing after the other, until Blaine stood there completely naked and mildly surprised.

"Hm. This undressing thing is actually nice with you."

He fell into the bed as he stood, whining for cuddles and then falling asleep in seconds, warm and safe in his boyfriend's – his lover's – arms. The nightmares were once again a thing of past, so that when he woke up in the morning, he was rested and rejuvenated. Kurt's arms holding him close, Kurt's thigh over his bare hip felt like a blessing. Like it was sealing something, finally closing a dark chapter of Blaine's life for good.

He felt complete. Kurt had him. He'd proven so many times that he could be trusted, showed and told him time and time again, and Blaine finally believed him. Really, truly believed. They were _forever_. Together, they were complete.

Moving his hips and feeling a brush of Kurt's morning erection against his own, Blaine smiled. There were things _he_ wanted to try too. Sliding closer, he enveloped both their cocks in his hand. Kurt's eyes opened and shined a wide, hazy green in the morning sunlight.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter: <strong>_Fast forward_


	16. Fast forward

**A/N: **_Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it!_

_See you next Tuesday for the grand finale of this story. Love you all! You make my life a whole lot brighter 3_

* * *

><p><strong>15. FAST FORWARD<strong>

"What? No way! You two look like such lovebirds! Like that _just-got-together-can't-see-the-world-beside-you_ phase. Three and a half years? Really?"

Blaine smiled at Mark, the new member of their theater group. It wasn't the first time they'd heard similar words, but it never failed to give him a warm feeling. People kept wondering at how much in love they were, how it still showed on their faces, in their actions and their eyes. _You have hearts in your eyes when you look at each other_, one girl said with envy once. _As if you're just discovering each other_.

She wasn't exactly wrong. Even after so much time, there were still so many firsts for them.

There had been the first year of college, first nights together in their first apartment, and first fight. First shower sex and being able to touch each other everywhere for the very first time. First flight back home for Thanksgiving, and first exams, and then the first Christmas they were spending in their family homes not living there. First New Year's in New York, in the crowd at Times Square, because they had to experience this at least once in their lives. First time giving each other blow jobs at the same time, impatient tangle of limbs and cocks and mouths on the thick furry rug on their living room floor, the same rug from Blaine's house that was a memento of their first time.

First spring in New York and their second anniversary, and then that first time Kurt took care of Blaine when he caught the flu. First all-nighters before finals, studying interrupted with stolen moments for sex. First successfully commenced year of college. First vacations spent only partially with their families, the rest taken over by work and summer courses, and experiencing the craziness that is New York in the summer.

Then there had been the second year and they weren't timid freshmen anymore – not that Kurt had ever been timid. They'd learned and studied, and had done a lot of growing into themselves and discovering who they were, what they wanted. After a heated discussion with his parents, Blaine had ditched pre-business and took up music therapy as his second major instead. Kurt had discovered a new passion when he had to write a short play for one of his classes. Adding a second major in playwriting had been a logical next step.

Their firsts became fewer and further between, but there were still many of them. First auditions and first roles, together and separately. First time Blaine had come – hard – with Kurt's fingers teasing his asshole while his lips were tight over Blaine's cock. First time going to a club together. First sex fail right after, when they'd came back home drunk and horny and then suddenly everything was too much and too similar to years past, and it had ended in panic and tears and apologies.

And now they were juniors already and a new academic year lay before them, with new challenges and new firsts to conquer, together and separately. So much had changed, but their love still bloomed. Yet it had changed too, was still changing; maturing with them, its roots growing and deepening, constantly finding more cracks and fissures in them to squeeze into when they believed it can't possibly be more than what they had. It felt like everlasting spring in the garden of their hearts.

This Christmas would mark another first as their families would be sharing Christmas dinner together. If someone had told Blaine about this years ago, he would have surely called them crazy. But now, it was stunningly natural. Consequently, it would be Blaine's first Christmas with Kurt. He felt himself smile whenever he thought about this, his heart singing. It would be amazing.

* * *

><p>Christmas came at last, preceded by a string of finals that had left them exhausted and cursing the idea of double-majoring. But finally they were in Ohio for a wonderfully lazy two weeks, and all that needed to be done was Christmas preparation, which was sheer bliss when compared to all the studying they'd done recently.<p>

Kurt was puttering around, making sure everything was ready for the Andersons' arrival. It had to be perfect; he _needed_ this evening to be perfect. His inner control freak was in full gear ever since he'd woken up this morning. When the doorbell finally rang, he was checking – for the third time in an hour – that nothing was missing from the table. A minute later, he heard the cheerful chaos of greetings and the sound of coats being taken off in the hallway, and soon Blaine was there, breathtaking in his suit as he came up to hug Kurt.

Finally, everyone was getting into their seats around the big table. Blaine was making the last detour to the kitchen, where Kurt asked him to put the tiramisu into the fridge while he lit the candles on the mantel. It took a while - the fridge was so packed its contents could feed an army - but when Blaine came back, apologetic, Kurt wasn't seated yet, either; he was just lingering in front of the unlit fireplace, correcting the placement of the candles. Blaine smiled fondly and Kurt felt like his heart would jump out of his chest, it was pounding so hard.

It was time.

He turned and took Blaine's hand. And then he got down on one knee and everyone in the room gasped.

* * *

><p>Burt felt his throat constrict when he saw his son kneeling down. He hoped he'd live to see this day, and the day of these boys' wedding, and maybe even get to meet his grandchildren, if he was lucky. It looked like at least one of his wishes would be granted.<p>

Kurt hadn't told him he was going to do this, hadn't done anything to hint it. Judging by reactions around the table, nobody had known. Burt wouldn't cry. Of course he wouldn't. It was just… something in his eye. Yes.

Out of nowhere, there was a small black box in Kurt's left hand. Blaine stood motionless, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide, focused on his boyfriend like the rest of the world had disappeared, as Kurt spoke.

"I was going to do this like that, down on my knee. But then I realized that it wouldn't be right." He stood up, still holding Blaine's hand. "Because I've learned many things in the years we've been together, and one of the most important ones was that we're equals. We're both strong and courageous, even if we both have our moments of weakness. We've saved each other in many ways since we met. We both give and take in equal measures, and there are no roles to fill in our relationship. So I want this to be on equal ground, too."

Burt could see tears in Blaine's eyes as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, a picture of moved surprise. Kurt continued, his face so full of love he seemed to glow with it.

"Blaine, you are the love of my life. I may not have known this that day when I first met you back on Dalton's staircase, but I knew that something sparked even then. Now, after knowing you for so long, I'm convinced those sparks were our souls finally connecting after being separate for so long. I know I lost a piece of my heart that day, because it insisted on going home with you. But it was _so_ worth it. Because when you entrusted a piece of your heart to me, it felt like coming home. Like the world settling into being just _right_, the way it should be. It still feels that way, and it's getting better all the time, every single day. And I know that's what I want, forever – to live in a world where you are by my side, as my partner, my love, my husband. Blaine, will you marry me?"

Everyone around the table was smiling through tears by then, and the enthusiasm and pure joy of Blaine's immediate "_Yes!_" made them laugh as he shot forward to hug Kurt. It was a bit like watching a kid get the present he'd been dreaming of for years.

Once Kurt could breathe again, he opened the box he was holding – bigger than a ring box, now that Burt could see it clearly. Kurt looked at his boyfriend – his _fiancé _ – with a hint of anxiety that was so well covered Burt doubted anyone but him noticed it. Well, except for Blaine, of course. Blaine was like an emotional barometer when it came to Kurt.

"We already have the promise rings and I love them; I didn't want engagement rings. So I had these made. I hope you like them."

Burt couldn't really see much from his seat across the table, but he watched Blaine's face as it brightened even more.

"Kurt, they are _perfect_. Help me put it on?"

They were some kind of bracelets, Burt realized. Once the boys put them on each other's left wrists and kissed, long and happy, everyone was up to hug them and congratulate. The bracelets looked like nothing much, elegantly discreet. Just a strap of intricately braided black leather with a tiny silver puzzle symbol linking the ends of it. Burt looked at Kurt questioningly.

"It has a meaning?"

Kurt blushed a little.

"Kind of. It's from a song Blaine sang with the Warblers the day when we first met."

Blaine laughed softly from Burt's other side and sung quietly.

"_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece. I'm complete._"

Burt had never been into metaphors, but he had to admit this one fit perfectly.

* * *

><p>They spent that night – their first night as fiancés – at Blaine's house together. There was no other option, really. This night, of all nights, was too significant to spend apart; everyone understood that. And since Blaine's room in the big house offered much more privacy than Kurt's, being as far away from his parent's bedroom as architecture allowed, here's where they chose to go.<p>

Blaine felt so happy it was unreal; like he was floating a foot above ground. They were engaged to be married. Kurt had asked him to marry him. The bracelets looked amazing, the black leather braids masculine where they fitted their wrists, and the puzzle pieces were perfect symbols of what they were. They even fit together. They were also…

"Platinum, Kurt? Someone's feeling rich." Blaine murmured into the skin of his fiancé's neck. They were pressed together, naked, in Blaine's old bed.

"Well, you're worth it. Also, they're tiny. I didn't go bankrupt."

"I love you. Love you, love you, love you so much. So have you thought about the wedding at all? I bet you have. You probably have it all planned already."

He chuckled and Kurt blushed in the warm light of the bedside table.

"Not _all_ of it. But I've thought about some details, yes. Like the time maybe. Would you be okay with waiting until the summer after graduation?"

"A year and a half? Sure. But why did you propose so soon then?"

"Because I couldn't wait to be engaged to you? And I wanted to do this first, before you had the chance to beat me to it. Because you're not the only one who really, _really_ wants this. I dream of the day I'll be able to kiss you and call you my husband." Blaine felt warmth pooling in his chest at Kurt's words. It wasn't anything new and surprising, not really, but hearing it like this still meant so very much. Kurt stroked his cheek and added. "Besides, planning a perfect wedding takes time, I'll have you know."

"Oh really? Sounds like you know your weddings." Kurt snorted. "Okay, tell you what. I'll let you plan everything about the wedding – but I get to have opinions – if you let me plan everything about the honeymoon _without_ you having opinions."

"Really, everything?" Kurt's eyes flashed.

"Really."

"Deal. God, I love you."

The rest of their conversation was way less wordy. After all, there was so much skin to rediscover, make sure it still smelled and tasted the same now that they were engaged. It was a serious change after all, everything was possible. They were unhurried, treasuring every moment, every touch, cherishing another of their first times together – first time sex as fiancés.

It was with his mouth sliding up and down Kurt's cock and his fingers teasing around Kurt's hole to the accompaniment of moans and soft cries muffled by a pillow that Blaine decided to add one more first to this special night.

Kurt loved ass play. Blaine liked it, now that every last bit of fear and uncertainty was gone, but Kurt absolutely _loved _all of it. Blaine's fingers sliding along his crack; kissing and nipping of his ass cheeks; Blaine's hands gripping his ass fiercely when he was close and they were rutting against each other. There was one more thing Blaine wanted to try for some time and was almost sure Kurt would love.

He slid his mouth off the delicious cock and in one fluid motion pressed Kurt's knees up and apart. In the next instant Blaine's tongue was on Kurt's balls, then his perineum, and then…

Kurt shouted into the pillow when Blaine's tongue slipped even lower and swirled around his asshole. Kurt's breathing turned shallow and panting almost immediately and his muscles were quickly tensing to the point of shaking. He was already close, so very close.

Blaine focused on his actions. He knew the theory and watched a couple of… let's say, instructional movies, but actually doing this was something else entirely. Kurt was always impeccably clean, so there was no concern of any kind here, but it was the closest Blaine had ever been to any kind of actual anal sex. It was hard to believe how turned on he was by this, and Kurt's reactions were only multiplying the waves of arousal flowing freely through Blaine's body.

Teasing the puckered entrance with his tongue, he couldn't believe something as big as a cock could fit in without causing serious damage. He trailed a series of kisses all along and around, taking a detour to nip and suck a hickey into the pale flesh of Kurt's ass cheek while substituting his mouth with fingers again. Above, Kurt was thrashing on the bed and keening.

For a moment, Blaine felt an insane urge to just slide his finger into Kurt's ass. Just… a little. To see how it would feel. The thought shocked him, but judging but his body's reaction, it was far from unwelcome. _Oh god_. He moaned against Kurt's hole where his mouth had returned in the meantime, and it was enough. Kurt screamed and arched on the bed, pulsing and spilling all over his stomach and chest for the longest time. The way his ass was clenching and unclenching under Blaine's tongue was surreal and he couldn't stop wondering how it would feel around his… No, what was he thinking? Was he beginning to consider…? No, surely not!

…was he?

* * *

><p><strong>The next (and last) chapter: <strong>_Forever_


	17. Forever

**A/N: **_First of all, I'm even more distracted than I thought, so a huge belated THANK YOU to the one and only, amazing wowbright who agreed to beta chapter 16 for me on a really short notice when my lovely judearaya couldn't, and who added some important insight there 3_

_Now, this is the last chapter of _Leave Me Breathless_, and probably the last thing I've written in my _Breathe_ 'verse (probably, because I may have an idea for a one shot, somewhere in the future, but it's a big maybe). 5 months, 41 chapters, 100 000 words that started with a half-forgotten prompt that didn't want to let go. _With You, I Can Breathe_ was only the second thing I've ever written, and the story that convinced me that yes, I LOVE writing._

_None of this would be possible without you, my wonderful readers. Thank you for the hours spent reading this 'verse, for your comments and encouragement. You motivate me every day to write more and write better. I hope that my stories have given you some pleasure, moved you somehow, brightened your day, and that they continue to do so in the future._

_What's next? There's a very angsty multichapter that I'm working on and that will probably be published daily, in several parts, very soon. And there's sequel to _Gotten_ that will start right after New Year's. Plus, several other projects. Be on the lookout, if you're interested._

_Okay, on to the final chapter. Make yourself comfortable, grab a coffee or bring snacks. 6000 words. Have fun. And I'd love to hear your opinions. Love you all._

* * *

><p><strong>17. FOREVER<strong>

The ceremony was short and simple, the reception small but classy. Now, after saying goodbye to their families and friends, Mr. and Mr. Hummel-Anderson were finally where they wanted to be that special night: at their New York apartment.

It was customary to spend the wedding night at a hotel, of course, but it wasn't what either of them wanted. They preferred to return to the comfort of their own space, their cozy bedroom that they'd already prepared for tonight; their sunny kitchen with the best coffee and fresh fruit waiting for the morning.

They'd been silent since they'd entered, holding hands and cherishing their first private moments since that morning. Blaine led his husband to the middle of their spacious living room, where he left him just long enough to press a few buttons on their stereo system. As soon as the first notes filled the air, he turned to Kurt with his hand extended.

"May I have this dance?"

"Yes. Yes, you may." Kurt smiled as he slipped into his husbands arms. They'd danced that night, of course, but this was different. This was just for them. And… was it their song? Of course. A ballad version of _Teenage Dream _was flowing sweetly from the speakers.

They danced, holding each other intimately, chest against chest, cheek by cheek, their hips and thighs touching. Kurt lost himself in the music and touch, committing this moment to memory, when Blaine's warm voice sang into his ear quietly, a little breathless.

"_Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love…_" and when Kurt opened his eyes and looked up to smile at his husband, he saw the warm amber eyes – intense, expectant, as if waiting for an answer. But what answer? What could he…

Oh.

_Oh._

Kurt stopped swaying to the music, but didn't withdraw from the embrace.

"You… you want to…"

"I want to."

"You're sure?"

"I've been sure for months. I just wanted to wait for tonight. Do _you_ want to?"

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath. "I do. I really, really do."

* * *

><p>For all the years they'd been together Kurt had reassured Blaine repeatedly that he was okay with not taking this last step into penetrative sex. And he was. They were amazing together, the chemistry between them was just as strong as at the beginning and years of practice and experiments resulted in being perfectly attuned to each other. The things they could achieve with just their hands and lips and tongues were mind-blowing and numerous. Kurt could easily spend his whole life without ever having anal sex, and still die a happy, sexually fulfilled man.<p>

But it didn't mean he never thought or fantasized about it. He did. A lot. And his fantasies were quite detailed. Or maybe extremely detailed. Some might even have called them plans.

Well, okay. Kurt had very detailed plans – a few of them, for different circumstances of course – for how their hypothetical first time could happen. He just wanted to be _prepared_ if it ever did. He liked being prepared for everything. And if it ever happened, Kurt wanted to be ready to make it perfect. Because Blaine deserved perfect.

They had talked about it, of course – they talked about everything, that's why they were so good together – and he knew that if Blaine would ever be ready to go _all the way_, he would want Kurt to make love to _him_ first. Kurt had thought that after his past experience it would be the other way round, that he would prefer not to be in that position again, or at least not at the beginning. But Blaine explained that he could never, ever hurt Kurt, and until he checked and believed that sex really wasn't all about pain and trauma, he couldn't stand the thought of doing something like that to Kurt.

So Kurt knew what and how. Now he just needed to determine which of his plans would be the best choice. Specifically, he had to know one essential thing.

"Do you want to have full control over everything? Will you feel safer that way?"

"No. This time I want to – I feel I _need _to – give up control, to know that I _let_ _you_ guide me. It's a trust thing. I give you permission and I trust you completely. And I know that if I say it's enough at any moment, we'll stop. Will you be all right with that?"

"Of course. So… just let me take care of you. Let me love you, Blaine."

* * *

><p>They kissed. And kissed, and kissed, and kissed. They kissed all the way through undressing each other – slowly, leisurely, happy to be together. There was nothing hurried about that night, nothing desperate. They'd been living together for years, had a regular, very satisfying sex life, they didn't have to jump each other's bones like horny teenagers. Tonight was special, even more so than Kurt thought it would be, and it was all about gentle touch and tender love. He would make sure of it.<p>

They were both undressed now, only their underwear remained, and even after more than five years together, Kurt still felt his breath hitch at how gorgeous his boyf… no, his husband, was. All toned muscles and perfect proportions. His husband. This beautiful human being was his _husband_. His. Forever. It hit him more than it had at any other moment that day.

"I love you," he whispered against the warm skin of Blaine's neck, his hands sliding slowly down the smooth planes of his back. "So very much."

"I love you too. I can't believe we're married. I never thought it would feel so good."

Kurt chuckled. "It does, doesn't it? Well, _husband_, do you mind if I go ahead to start the shower and ask you to join me in, say, five minutes?"

"Sure. I'll go and prepare the supplies."

"Ooh. You got supplies?"

"Of course I got supplies. I want to have sex with you, I couldn't let something as stupid as lack of condoms ruin the prospect, could I?"

Kurt smiled and closed the bathroom door behind him, feeling the thrill of Blaine's words slide over his skin. They were going to have sex tonight. No, make love. He was going to make love to his husband. For the first time, like this. He felt the heat coil low in his belly at the mere thought and the images it evoke._ Hmm, definitely something that I'll have to take care of._ Premature orgasms weren't on his to do list for a perfect first time. Not to mention, he wanted to be able to think somewhat clearly for as long as he could. This time, the first time, Blaine was more important than him. Kurt would have to make sure that he felt safe, that it was good for him before he could focus on himself. He washed quickly and when Blaine opened the sliding door to join him in the shower, he found Kurt leaning against the wall, stroking his cock leisurely.

"Starting without me? I thought we had plans for tonight."

"Oh, we still do. It's going to be a long, hot night. And I refuse to embarrass myself with too much enthusiasm later."

"Oh, I see. In that case, mind if I help you?"

"Not at all."

The sight of Blaine dropping to his knees in front of him, ready to put his amazing mouth to use, should have stopped being so damn hot after the first couple of hundred times. But the fact was, it never had. Kurt hoped it never would. But there was something different tonight: the touch of metal on the hand stroking him felt unfamiliar. Their wedding bands were designed to be reminiscent of their promise rings, only they were white gold instead of silver, and thicker, the infinity symbols still there. Kurt looked, transfixed.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just… I've never been blown by my husband before."

"Oh. Right. And I've never given a blowjob to _my_ husband. How about we rectify this situation?"

"Yes, _please_."

It turned out his husband was just as talented at oral sex as his boyfriend had been.

* * *

><p>After making sure fragments of his brain were all back together and not hiding, say, behind a bottle of shampoo, Kurt left Blaine there to actually take a shower and went to prepare the bedroom. There was already a bottle of lubricant and a box of condoms on a bedside table. He looked at the box: latex. These wouldn't do, not this time. Not with his plans for tonight.<p>

Kurt dug deep in his drawer, pulling out a packet of polyurethane condoms. A small red bottle was already waiting in his bedside drawer, so he picked it up and laid it all out so that he could easily reach. Then he laid a fresh black sheet on top of their bedding and lit the candles that he'd placed strategically in the morning. They were all set in safe glass candleholders, so they wouldn't have to worry about fire hazard even if they fell asleep. When he switched off the overhead lights, the bedroom looked cozy and inviting. The smell of sandalwood and lemon, a combination they both liked, was already wafting through the air from the two scented candles; not cloying, but there. Kurt checked the iPod in its deck to make sure the proper playlist was set, and started the soft music. When water stopped flowing in the bathroom, he asked through the door.

"Would you like some wine?"

"No, no alcohol."

Kurt nodded to himself, knowing the unsaid _not this time_. That's what he thought. He brought glasses of cold juice from the kitchen instead, a bottle of water and a bowl of fruit. He'd just finished setting it all up on the bedside tables and was checking his mental list to see if everything was ready when Blaine came in, naked save for the red towel around his waist. He looked around appreciatively, then picked up the additional packet of condoms, surprised.

"Are you allergic to latex? I didn't know that."

"I'm not. It's just that I wanted to give you a massage, I've had it planned for tonight anyway, and oil is not a good combination with latex."

"Wait. So… you've had it planned for tonight and you bought condoms especially for use with oil? But I thought… You said… You didn't know…" Blaine's face crumpled a little, so Kurt hurried to explain.

"No, honey, no! I wasn't going to even talk about anything more than we've done before. I wouldn't if you didn't. I didn't buy those for tonight. They've been in my drawer for the past… wait… three years? I think something about that. But they aren't expired, I checked."

"But why did you buy them then?"

"Um. Don't laugh at me?"

"Okay."

"You know me, right? Research and preparation is what I need to feel safe, in control. One night, years ago, I woke up thinking, what if you wanted to go further one day? And I didn't know half of what I needed! I wasn't prepared! So I researched. And I created a plan, just in case. And then another, for different circumstances. Several in fact. And then I bought supplies, just in case, to have on hand. That's all. They'll come in handy now."

"You have a plan ready?" Blaine's eyes were wide.

"Of _course_ I do. Have you ever seen me doing anything without a plan? And this is important. This has to be perfect. For you."

"Oh, Kurt. Don't worry. It will be. It's with you."

They kissed and touched and fell into the easy comfort of each other's arms, but Kurt pulled back before things could go too far.

"Could you lie on your stomach now?"

Blaine tensed a little, the blissful smile wavering despite his effort to stay calm.

"You're not going to-"

Kurt smoothed a calming hand over his chest.

"Of course not. I thought you knew me by now? Would I ever do something so triggering?"

Blaine blushed, chastised.

"Right. Sorry, I guess I'm a bit nervous."

"I know. I am too. But you know what? We don't even have to do this tonight, there's no hurry. We'll just have a hot, sexy wedding night, with a massage like I planned, and kissing, and we'll see where it takes us. I mean, we've never even tried _fingering_, we don't have to jump right to the full thing at once."

Blaine blushed harder, his eyes suddenly down as he murmured.

"I have."

Kurt was sure he misunderstood, because Blaine definitely couldn't mean what he thought he meant.

"You have what?" Blaine mumbled something quietly. "Blaine?"

"I've… um… tried fingering?"

"What?" Kurt couldn't be more shocked. "But- How? When?"

"I- I do it in the shower sometimes. I tried after I first thought that maybe I'd like to try anal sex after all, and I really liked it, so…"

Kurt groaned. God. Blaine, in their shower, naked and flushed, with his fingers inside himself while jerking off… The image was way too much for Kurt's active imagination.

"Great. There goes my calm certainty that I won't end up like an excessively eager teenager. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me with that picture?"

"Sorry?"

Blaine's voice was small and apologetic, but the smile trembling in the corners of his lips showed that he was far from it. This night was just getting better and better, wasn't it? Kurt smirked.

"No you aren't. And neither am I. I just wish you told me earlier if you've been doing it for… what, weeks?"

"More like months. But it wouldn't be such a surprise tonight then. Have _you_ ever tried?"

Kurt groaned when Blaine's fingers ghosted over his already hardening cock.

"No. I've wanted to, for the longest time, but I've been afraid. You know how much I love when you touch my ass; what if I discovered I loved it and wanted more?"

"I think you would. I do."

The sound that ripped out of Kurt's throat could only be classified as growl. He moved away from Blaine's hand quickly, reaching for the small red bottle.

"Okay. On your stomach please. Massage." Blaine smiled mischievously, but complied. "Good. Now, I want you to know that if you feel my hands, lips or even my cock in the general area of your ass at any point, I won't be doing anything more than what we've done before, okay? Not yet and not like this. So you can relax and enjoy."

"Okay. I trust you."

* * *

><p>Massage had always been something fascinating for Kurt; a kind of magic that let you make people feel good and relaxed with your bare hands alone. He'd taken some classes to learn basic massage and acupressure techniques two years ago, and had studied a book on erotic massage quite thoroughly later. His skills had proven really useful, both in bed and out. It wasn't often that he indulged Blaine with a full body massage, though – usually they got desperate and impatient after a few minutes, or there wasn't enough time in their busy schedules. Generally slow, long foreplay lost the competition against fast, passionate sex and more sleep almost every time.<p>

Tonight, however, they had all the time they wanted. Their plane to Italy didn't leave until early evening tomorrow and they were mostly packed already, so until then there were just Kurt, Blaine, their bed and time. And Kurt had plans. True, they'd just been modified by Blaine's revelations, but that was fine – a slow, prolonged erotic massage would be a great way to ease away any tension and make their night unforgettable for more reasons than one.

Pouring some of the oil into his cupped palm, Kurt rubbed it between his hands and straddled Blaine's thighs. For a long time this position had been out of the question – any restriction of Blaine's movements while he was on his stomach caused a panic attack. But the problem lessened with time, so now Kurt didn't need to worry about it and could focus on his husband's beautiful body, there for him to touch and stroke into a perfect vibration of desire.

Kurt smoothed his slicked hands over Blaine's broad shoulders, kneading the tension from the long, emotional day out of them, and was rewarded with a relieved groan. Blaine loved Kurt's hands on him, and not just in a sexual way. He was like a cat, sometimes almost purring under loving touch. Kurt focused his attention on the long planes of Blaine's back, the muscles playing under his perfect olive skin, marred only by two barely visible scars from Eric's teeth. He slid down the long gentle valley of Blaine's spine, skimmed over the adorable twin dimples on his lower back that begged to be kissed. Kurt couldn't resist and leaned in to trace one of them with his tongue, even as his hands were stroking and pressing, and then ghosting just lightly, teasingly over Blaine's sensitive sides down to his slim waist. Blaine shivered and sighed with delight.

Kurt had known all the sensitive spots on Blaine's body for a long time; every erogenous zone, every way of touching and caressing that evoked the strongest reactions. He was taking his time to revisit all of them tonight; kneading the small of Blaine's back, down to where the cleft of his ass started. He spent some more time there, licking and sucking the smooth skin while Blaine arched and pressed against Kurt's lips. Back to rubbing Blaine's shoulders, then just skimming his fingertips down his arms, earning himself a delicious shiver and moan, to his palms, for a bit of acupressure.

Kurt slowly lay down on his husband's back, his cock right along the crack of Blaine's ass, to suck a mark right in that hypersensitive spot at the side of Blaine's neck. Between the friction of sheets under him and the weight of Kurt's cock against his ass, Blaine seemed lost for a moment, his hips stuttering, but before he could decide whether to press up or down, Kurt backed off of him and down to the end of the bed with a soft chuckle.

He took Blaine's feet then, one by one – adding more oil, massaging the high arches, the backs of the toes, firmly enough not to tickle, his movements well practiced, fine-tuned to give the most pleasure and deeply relax. Blaine groaned into the pillows, slightly breathless, and Kurt brushed his fingers along the soles of his feet for the last time before moving up, kneading the calves in small, tight circles. He moved in then, to breathe warmly against the thin, soft skin at the back of a knee, and Blaine's hips bucked up again. It was exactly the response Kurt was waiting for, of course – it was more about _erotic_ now than about a _massage_. He ghosted his lips in the same spot, ending with a series of kitten licks, and oh, the way Blaine whimpered was so hot that words just jumped out of Kurt's mouth, low and rough.

"God, Blaine, if you could see yourself now… You're so beautiful, smooth skin and taut muscles, sprawled out like this for me."

Blaine moaned again, louder, and Kurt kept mouthing his way up the back of one lean thigh while smoothing his hand up the inside of the other one, causing his husband to part his legs slightly. With a hum of approval, Kurt didn't even stop before licking a long, wet line up the cleft of the perfect, round ass, and Blaine cried out. Kurt hummed.

"And your ass, Blaine. I will worship your ass forever."

He poured a generous splash of the oil directly on the skin, and it slid down the crack before Kurt caught it with his hand and spread it all over the skin, alternately kneading and skimming. Fingers of his right hand slipped between the ass cheeks and he started lightly massaging around the tight hole, not pressing, just caressing the sensitive skin there. It was the best proof of Blaine's trust in Kurt that he didn't tense even the slightest bit, just gave in to the touch. Kurt's tongue was there a moment later, teasing and flicking over the entrance, releasing a whole symphony of keening sounds that revealed just how close to the edge Blaine was.

Kurt moved away despite Blaine's disappointed groan.

"Okay, turn over."

Blaine's eyes were blown black when he did, his lips bitten red and his cock jutting beautifully out, hard and leaking. There was already a small wet spot where it had been laying against the sheets before, and Kurt felt his resolve weaken. He wasn't sure how much longer he would manage to tease Blaine before he himself broke down and jumped him. He just looked _so gorgeous_.

He made a shorter work of stroking and massaging the front of his husband's body, focusing his attention on the sweet spots on his chest, stomach and thighs, but not touching his cock at all. Not yet. It was all build-up – and quite a successful one if he said so himself; Blaine was writhing on the bed and panting by the time Kurt deserted the bottle of oil and pressed his whole body against Blaine's to finally dive down for a kiss.

One kiss turned into a dozen, and soon they were grinding and moaning, and Blaine's hands were sliding and clutching everywhere. It was a feat of Kurt's will that he managed to disentangle himself from their embrace after a while. He panted heavily, parting Blaine's legs wider and settling between them.

"This is amazing, but I haven't finished with you yet, mister."

Blaine sounded just as breathless.

"What do you have in mind now?"

"Oh, this for starters."

In one swift movement, Kurt swallowed Blaine's cock whole. He might have learned to do this months later than Blaine, but once he grasped the concept, it turned out he was _really_ talented. Sure enough, after just a couple of minutes of Kurt's mouth sliding up and down, sucking, Kurt's tongue swirling, throat relaxed and humming in pleasure, Blaine was like soft wax in his hands. He pulled off then, grabbing the bottle of oil and pouring more into his palm, then spreading it over to the other too. Blaine arched off the bed when Kurt's slick hands closed over his erection and his balls, fingers brushing over his perineum.

After a few slides everything there was a slippery mess and Kurt kept teasing Blaine's cock with one hand, while the other was working around his asshole now, the touch light, but persistent. His breath hitched when Blaine pressed against his finger with a whine; he looked up at the amber eyes.

"Blaine?"

"_Please_."

* * *

><p>Blaine felt like he was <em>burning <em>with desire. His blood was on fire, his skin oversensitive after Kurt's ministrations and he ached with the need for more. More touch, more friction – until he felt Kurt's slick fingers playing around his entrance; suddenly the thing he wanted more than anything was being _filled_. By Kurt's fingers. By his cock. Oh god, Blaine ached with need at the mere thought.

And once Kurt understood Blaine's plead and carefully slid one trembling finger into his hole, moaning at the sensation, Blaine realized that as much as he enjoyed fingering himself, he was up for something much, much better tonight. Kurt's finger was longer and he had better access, which allowed him to press all the way in and experiment with different angles as he continued to finger Blaine slowly, leisurely, with awe in his eyes.

Blaine tried not to beg for more, but it was useless – after a while he was desperate for it and pleading, and so, so grateful when Kurt acquiesced, a little hesitant, and then he was suddenly relieved that Kurt had just stopped stroking his cock. Otherwise he would have come on the spot when the second finger slid in easily, satisfyingly deep, filling him. It was hard not to come anyway, with the sensations building up with every move of Kurt's fingers, so Blaine tried to distract himself talking – utterly honest now, no filter between his brain and mouth whatsoever, he babbled and rambled, every word praising, worshipping, confessing.

"_Ohmygod yes_, Kurt, your fingers like this... I've imagined it every time I fingered myself, imagined I had _your _fingers deep inside me... filling me just like this... but god, this is so so _so _much better that I could ever expect... And you're so gorgeous, naked and flushed and just for me... and... Kurt-"

It worked for a while. Watching Kurt's beautiful face blush, his eyes become wide and glazed and his breath come faster, was captivating and helped distract Blaine from the magic of Kurt's fingers in his ass. But when another stroke of these curled fingers brushed against that elusive spot that Blaine had never been able to reach by himself, all control was lost and Blaine keened, arching from the bed.

In the next second he was clutching Kurt's wrist in a death grip, panting heavily.

"Stop. _Stopstopstop_." There was a flash of panic in his husband's eyes and Blaine breathed deeply to calm down a bit. "Too hot. Come here. I need to cool off before we continue."

Kurt smiled, relieved. Long minutes of lying face to face, kissing chastely, smiling, exchanging soft words of love and appreciation, and they were good to go again. Kurt's fingers slipped back in, resuming their task. Soon enough Blaine felt loose and pliant, and ready for more. Kurt's voice trembled a little as he asked.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Just go slow, I've never used more than two."

Kurt bit his lip in concentration and slipped his fingers all the way out before coating them with more oil and pressing back in. The additional finger was a bit of a stretch and it felt weird for a moment, but the fullness was heavenly, and soon Blaine pretty much forgot how to form coherent sentences. It wasn't long before he was ready, _so _ready and begging for Kurt's cock, but his husband was adamant.

"Not yet, Blaine. You're not stretched enough."

The sweet, sweet torture continued and soon Blaine felt himself relax even more around Kurt's fingers and that was it. He would _die_ if he had to wait any longer.

"Kurt. Please. _Now_."

He wanted this so badly, nothing else mattered but the need to be filled; more, deeper, closer. He wanted Kurt in him, like he'd never wanted anything before.

But once Kurt pulled his hand away and Blaine's brain stopped short-circuiting and regained a sliver of thinking abilities, enough to realize that this was it, they would have sex now, it turned out his body had opinions too. Suddenly, Blaine was shaking all over, so hard that all of his muscles almost locked. The calm composure that Kurt managed to keep all along began to fray now; there was fear in his eyes.

"You're trembling."

"I'm just a bit nervous, but please, it doesn't matter. I want you so much."

"But… I don't want to hurt you." Kurt sounded so vulnerable now, close to tears, and Blaine pulled him close and breathed in his neck.

"But baby, I'm fine with it. I know it will hurt, but it's you and I want this, and it will be good after a while."

At least that was what he hoped for; what everyone said. Kurt didn't look convinced; worse, he looked like he wanted to call it off now.

"Blaine, really. I'm not okay with hurting you. Maybe we should-"

_No, damn it, no!_ Blaine just wanted this, _now_. He snapped, impatient and yearning.

"Fuck, Kurt, _please_. I'm not some blown glass figurine, I won't shatter. Please, just- _Please_."

His voice broke at the end, but his blowout must have been what Kurt needed, because he was reaching for a condom then, sliding it on with trembling fingers, pouring more oil over Blaine's asshole, shamelessly spread and open, before slipping three fingers in again, and Blaine whimpered.

"_No_, Kurt-"

And then the fingers were gone, and Kurt was raising Blaine's leg to support it on his shoulder. There was a thicker, blunt pressure against his entrance and Blaine tried to focus on breathing, on relaxing all over despite the violent shaking and his body trying to clench and withdraw instinctively. It didn't work too well though, his body kept tensing, remembering this sensation of _cock_ against his ass, and all it recalled was _painpainpain_. His eyes closed on their own volition, his jaw clenched, but there was a soft hand on his cheek instantly and he looked up to see the most beautiful eyes in the world – forget-me-not blue tonight – anchoring him like they had so many times before. Kurt smiled softly and this alone eased most of the tension in Blaine's body. This was _Kurt_. His husband, the love of his life; the one person he wanted to give all of himself to. He'd wanted this for months, dreamed about this. He had no doubts at all.

Kurt must have seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice before, maybe even read it telepathically. They seemed to have that kind of connection sometimes, honestly. Blaine let out a shuddering breath and Kurt took his right hand, leaving the other one on Blaine's hip for support.

"I love you, Blaine. So, so much. I never knew it's possible to love like this. I'd do anything for you, anything to keep you happy, safe, unharmed." Blaine felt as if Kurt's words were filling him with warmth and comfort, and he smiled. Kurt spoke on. "And I can't believe that you still want to give me this, be with me this way, but I appreciate it… so much… _ah_… and I promise… _oh god_… promise to take the best care of you…_oh-_"

It was Kurt's voice, breaking over gasps and getting breathy and high, more than anything else, that made Blaine realize that his husband was rocking gently into him, sliding in slowly, in tiny increments, and he gasped, tensing. Kurt froze immediately where he was, and soothed.

"Hey. Baby, look at me. Please look at me?" Blaine did, his eyes locking on Kurt's. He was terrified and excited, and _it was happening_, right now, and- "Blaine. Look at me. I'd never hurt you. We're here together, just you and me. Let me love you. Let me make this the best possible experience for you."

Blaine felt the spiraling tension unwind inside his chest and he relaxed again, just his hand squeezing Kurt's tightly. Smiling, Kurt nodded.

"Good. Just like that. Keep looking at me. You're amazing, so beautiful and hot, so brave. And you feel so good, Blaine. So, so good I can barely keep myself from coming right now."

Blaine felt Kurt resume his tiny, gentle thrusts and now that he paid attention, he realized with a start that while he felt some discomfort of stretching and a burning sensation, there was no actual pain. It was all so tender, so full of love and care, and oh, so _filling_ that he moaned.

Kurt was moving, still slow and gentle, and the discomfort was still there, but mostly it was just _full_, wonderfully, blessedly full and _oh_, Blaine _loved_ it. He opened his eyes and seconds later Kurt's hips touched his ass, and his jaw dropped. They'd done it. They _were _doing it and it was _so _different from what Blaine remembered that the old memory seemed like nothing more than a nightmare now.

He had no time to linger on that thought, because then Kurt was pressing closer, leaning forward to lay against him, supporting his weight on his forearms, and Blaine instinctively wrapped his legs around his husband's waist, pulling him even closer. And then Kurt's lips were on his; there was such tenderness and awe in his eyes that Blaine's heart swelled even more.

"I love you," he whispered against Kurt's lips, and they didn't need telepathy; he knew that Kurt understood that it meant _Thank you_ and _Forever_ and _Only you_ and so many other things that didn't need words at all.

Kurt smiled.

"I love you too."

And then he moved his hips, their eyes still locked, and the whole world around them didn't matter anymore. They were _here_. _Together_.

* * *

><p>Eye to eye, heart to heart, their hands joined, felt safe and familiar... until Kurt moved against him and the world rocked. Blaine had never actually considered what it would be like when – and <em>if<em> at all – Kurt was already _inside him_. The jolt of raw _pleasure_ that ran through him left Blaine stunned and breathless and moaning low in his throat, because he'd never felt anything like this – never _imagined_ that anything as good as this sensation was possible. It was all perfect fullness just on the edge of too much and the mesmerizing drag of skin, delightful friction alighting sparks in Blaine's blood, but most of all, it was _Kurt_. Kurt, who'd been so close to him for years, in every possible sense, yet never like this – never feeling as if they were _one_, their boundaries blurring and unimportant, their love and desire palpable.

Kurt looked equally amazed and awed above him, breathing shallow and fast, and _god_ they would be _so_ doing this again. And again. Till the end of the world, in every possible way. But that would be later; now the pleasure multiplying with every thrust of Kurt's hips was quickly making Blaine unable to think or articulate anything other than the helpless whining, keening sounds and his husband's name whispered fervently, heated like a benediction.

With any semblance of rational thinking gone, emotions and sensations were all that was left and suddenly it was like Blaine's world was shifting, walls inside his mind moving, barriers he hadn't even noticed before disappearing and _god_, there was so much _more_ to life, so much to discover and learn and see, not just sexually, but a whole _world_ of experiences. It felt like finding the last elements of himself that had been missing for so long that he'd forgotten about them entirely; like everything was falling into its place and making him complete at last.

Blaine realized there were tears on his cheeks only when Kurt froze inside him and kissed them off. He said nothing, but there was a question in his eyes that were bluer than ever now, a tiny hint of uncertainty, and Blaine shook his head quickly.

"I'm just... happy."

He hoped Kurt would understand, would be able to read it from the tone of his voice and his eyes – the revelation and the completion, the _everything_. And maybe he had, because his eyes teared up too, and their kiss was soft and a little salty until it turned deep and dirty, and Kurt's hips were moving again, picking up speed, and Blaine groaned into the sweaty skin of his husband's neck.

"Kurt... so close, so-"

Kurt raised higher on his forearms, slightly changing the angle of his increasingly chaotic thrusts in the process and Blaine cried out as Kurt's cock hit that perfect spot, stars appearing before his closed eyes, liquid heat rapidly coiling low in his belly, ready to overflow or explode, or possibly both. Kurt was panting above him, every breath a litany of _Blaine_ and_ yes_, and then he brushed his hand over Blaine's cock and that was it. Blaine came so hard he felt like he was going to shatter, the world exploding into shards of light, the pounding of his blood the only sound around.

Eventually Blaine came down, slowly, gradually, as if gliding gently down after a thrilling flight, back to their bedroom where everything was soft – the music, the light, Kurt's skin against his chest. Their eyes met, smiling and bright, and Blaine spoke lazily.

"Kurt?"

"Mm?"

"You still want to try this the other way round?"

"Mm."

"Good."

THE END


End file.
